


Solid Ground

by blakefancier



Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, M/M, Multi, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-10-30 19:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard is kidnapped by HYDRA. What happens to him in Schmidt's clutches will either destroy him or save him. Either way, it's going to be a bumpy ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My partner-in-crime asked for a whump Howard story. And as always, I jump to obey. Yes, it's a WIP, but I'm hoping to get it done in another week or so. If it doesn't decide to grow again. *sighs* Also, please take the warnings serious. There are depictions of torture in this story ~~and yes, I'm warning for dubcon because I think consent is iffy when it comes to Howard and sex.~~ The whole dub-con issue may or may not be a moot point at this juncture. If that changes, I'll warn.

Howard was in a cell and, for the life of him, he couldn't remember why.

It was probably his own damn fault. Okay, it was his own damn fault. The brass had told him to stay close to base, they told him not to go wandering around the city alone. But, God, he hated being told what to do. It chafed, left him jittery and anxious. He never was good at following the rules. 

So he went out, alone, in a part of the city he'd never been in before, and got drunk: wonderfully, gloriously, drunk. It was the sort of drunk that had him staggering in the street, singing at the top of his lungs, an arm around a beautiful girl who may, or may not, have been a prostitute. It was the sort of drunk that should have had him groaning in pain in the morning, holding his head in his hands, his mouth dry, his stomach ready to rebel at any moment as he woke up in n his own room at the boarding house the military was using for SSR personnel. 

He should not have woken up in a dark, dank, cell that held only a little cot and a bucket. Howard wrinkled his nose at that because there was no way in *hell* that he was using that bucket for anything. 

He sat up, gingerly, because his head was killing him even if his eyeballs didn't feel like exploding. He rubbed the grit out of his eyes and ran his hands through his hair and—ouch! 

Fuck, ouch, fuck! 

There was a bump the size of a goose egg on the back of his head. Well, that explained the headache. He took a deep breath and stumbled to his feet. Oh, he thought, as his stomach roiled and he heaved, he was going to use that bucket after all.

After he finished spewing his guts, he crawled back onto the cot and closed his eyes. He hoped that whoever had kidnapped him—though, honestly, there weren't a lot of possibilities—had a doctor on hand.

*****

The cell door opened and Howard, groggily, sat up. Several men in black, all black, wearing funny masks, came into the room. 

HYDRA.

Howard clamped down hard on the fear that welled up inside him. No. He had to hold on. He just had to hold on until Cap and the Commandos rescued him. He got to his feet, tried to smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt and pants, and did his best not to heave all over his guards' shiny black boots. Well, okay, maybe not his *best.*

The guards marched him out of his cell and down the hall to another room, just as dimly lit and damp as the first. Only this room had a table and chairs. One of the guards shoved him towards the table and he caught himself, painfully, on the hip.

Howard gritted his teeth and sat down. "Hey, you," he said to the closest guard, "how about some water?" 

The guard settled himself next to the door.

"No? Nothing? What, do they cut out your tongue when you join up? Or maybe they remove the brain." Not his best insult, but his head hurt; the only response he got was a slight tightening of the guard's hands around his weapon. 

Howard buried his head in his hands and sighed. God, he'd kill for some aspirin. Or something to drink. Hopefully, whoever was in charge of this base wouldn't keep him waiting for too long. 

He lifted his head, and opened his mouth to ask for water again, when the door opened suddenly. Several guards and… oh. Oh, fuck. Howard leaned back in his chair and smiled.

"Herr Schmidt, I presume." His voice was steady; he was so proud of himself.

Schmidt smiled and moved to stand over him. "Ah, I'm flattered you know of me." 

"Your reputation precedes you." _You deranged megalomaniac._ He smirked up at Schmidt. God, bullies like Schmidt were all the same: small men with small minds. They made Howard sick.

"As does yours, Mr. Stark. You have one of the sharpest minds of the century." 

He shrugged. "Surely that's too early to tell."

"You're a brilliant engineer with a talent for business. Stark Industries was failing before you took it over from your father."

"Oh, you're making me blush. But do go on." 

Schmidt's mouth tightened slightly.

"Here, let me help you: brilliant engineer, talented businessman, and patriotic American. That is Howard Stark in a nutshell, Herr Schmidt."

"Indeed?"

"Well, I like to think so." 

"We shall both see, then, won't we, Mr. Stark. We shall both see." 

He hoped not; Schmidt looked extremely pleased at the prospect.

After Schmidt left, the guards took him back to his cell. They removed the cot from the room, then one of them ordered him to remove his socks and shoes.

"No way. You'll have to buy me dinner first." The guard pointed his weapon at Howard. "Go on, shoot me. I don’t think Schmidt would be happy about that. And hey, can I get one of those masks? I'm going to a ball in a few months and—hey!"

He struggled as two of the guards grabbed him by the arms and held him against the wall.

"Let go of me, you bastards! Dammit, let me go!"

They got his shoes and socks, but not before he kicked one son-of-a-bitch in the throat. 

*****

The problem was that the cell was cold and huddling on the cement floor leached away what little warmth he had. After a few hours, his feet and hands ached from the cold and no one had come by to dump the bucket. The room was starting to smell like vomit and piss, which helped keep the hunger at bay, but not his thirst.

God, he needed to stop thinking about how thirsty he was. He rubbed his hands together, then massaged the feeling back into his feet.

He wondered how long he'd been missing and if they were looking for him. No, no, he couldn't think like that. Of course they were looking for him. Even if Phillips wanted to leave him to rot, Steve wouldn't allow it. He was a part of Steve's team.

Howard rubbed his eyes, took a deep breath, and traced out patterns for the new motorcycle he was going to build Steve as a thank you for being rescued.

*****

He wasn't worried. He knew they were looking for him. 

*****

The thing was, Howard knew he wasn't a popular guy; he worked too hard, drank too hard, didn’t take other people's feelings into consideration when he did *anything.* It wasn't that he didn't care. He cared. Of course he cared. He just knew it didn't matter. 

Howard once had an older brother. Edward had been eleven years older and everyone had loved him. Edward had been charming, handsome, and generous.

Not that Howard knew that firsthand. Edward drowned at the age of fourteen trying to save another boy's life. So he didn't know firsthand, but that was all right, because Howard's parents never let him forget how wonderful Edward had been. 

Every achievement and every mistake was measured against Edward's perfection. Every beating his father gave him, every wry jab his mother sent his way, was a reminder of how unworthy he was of Edward's memory.

Trying to live up to a ghost was tiring. So he stopped. He stopped trying. Let Edward be loved.

Howard was alive and rich and indispensible, so he won.

*****

He won.

*****

The door opened and before Howard could scramble to his feet, a sack was tossed into the room, and the door was once again closed. He stared at the sack for a moment, wondering if he should get close or just ignore it. There could be anything in that sack: Erskine had said that Schmidt was crazy. Steve said the same thing.

Oh, God, what the hell was he doing? It was a goddamn sack! He scooped it up off the floor, opened it, and let out a whoop of laughter. In it he found a hunk of bread and a canteen, probably filled with water.

"Are you kidding me? Are you— You've got to be kidding me! What are we, in a dime novel?" Still, he settled in a corner and contemplated the bread and—he opened the canteen and sniffed—water. One or both could be drugged. He wasn't sure he should risk it. On the other hand, who knew how long he'd be here and he had to eat and drink to survive. 

He bit his lip and then let out a sigh. He ate the bread and drank the water and as his limbs grew heavy, he thought, here we go.

*****

When he opened his eyes, he was stripped to the waist and strapped to a metal table, his feet hanging off the edge. His breath stuttered out of him and his muscles tensed. 

No.

No, he forced his body to relax and he drew in a slow, steady breath. He was not going to give Schmidt the satisfaction of seeing him panic.

"Ah, Mr. Stark, you're awake," Schmidt said, coming into view.

Howard smiled and met his eyes. "Herr Schmidt, drugging my food and water was very bad form."

"I do apologize, Mr. Stark, but I wasn't sure you'd come voluntarily." He placed a gloved hand on Howard's chest.

Howard did not flinch or shudder. "Well, I suppose the point is moot. I'm here now."

"Yes." Schmidt slowly circled the table, every once in a while reaching over to touch Howard. "Tell me about Operation: Rebirth, Mr. Stark." 

Predictable! Absolutely predictable. "I'm sorry, operation what?"

"I know you were a part of the project, Mr. Stark, you and Doctor Erskine. I know you are with the Strategic Scientific Reserve and one of Captain America's team members."

"Captain America?" Howard laughed. "You mean like the comic books and the USO show? I love that guy! But, uh, he's not real."

"What were you doing in London, Mr. Stark?" 

Howard shrugged, or tried to. "Just looking for a good time." 

"In the middle of a war?" Schmidt's voice was low and angry: Howard kept his expression untroubled.

"Is there a better time?" 

"This does not have to be difficult." Schmidt moved away and picked up something from a table on the edge of Howard's peripheral vision. When Schmidt turned back, cane in hand, Howard's whole body tensed and he swallowed audibly. "Do you know what bastinado is, Mr. Stark?"

He didn't, but he could guess. Oh God, oh God, oh God! "A new type of German music?"

The cane whistled through the air and he steeled himself for the blow. He cried out when wood met flesh, tears stinging his eyes, his legs jerking involuntarily against the straps.

"Tell me what you know of Erskine's formula."

"I don’t know what you're talking about!" He gritted his teeth and waited for the next blow. He tried, he tried, but a whimper escaped. Each time Schmidt asked, Howard's answer was the same, "I don’t know." 

Finally, Schmidt said, "Why won't you help yourself, Mr. Stark?"

Howard's feet felt like they were on fire, each breath sobbed out of him, and he knew he should give in. He knew he should. He whimpered softly, looked into Schmidt's eyes, and said, "W-Why don't you take off your mask. H-Hear you're a redhead. I l-love redheads." 

If looks could kill, he'd be dead.

Schmidt clenched his jaw and landed blow, after blow, after blow, against the bottom of Howard's feet.

Howard couldn't—his control broke; he screamed and fought his bonds.

But that's all that broke.

*****

Schmidt made him walk back to his cell. 

And he never got back his shirt and jacket: goddamn thieves. 

*****

Howard couldn't stop thinking about food—steak and potatoes and even the fucking powdered eggs they served in the mess—served with a tall, cool glass of water. Oh, he'd kill for some water, just a sip to wet his mouth, just a tiny little sip. But the canteen was dry, had been dry for two days, and he hadn't had anything to eat in longer.

And, God, he was hungry. Not even the overwhelming stench of piss and shit kept his stomach from complaining, loudly and painfully.

No, no, he couldn't think about that. 

Howard stretched his legs out and carefully wiggled his toes. His feet were still swollen, bruised, and they ached, unbearably sometimes, in the cold. He knew he could stop this. With just a word, he could stop it all. But he hated losing. And he promised himself long ago, he'd never give in, not to anyone.

He would never give anyone that power again.

*****

The next day, the guards pulled him to his feet and forced him to hobble down the long hallway, back to that room.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he froze, his body trembling, his stomach clenching, at the smell of meat and potatoes.

Son of a bitch.

Schmidt sat at a table, his dinner in front of him, a pitcher of water sitting to the left of it.

Howard couldn’t take his eyes off it, any of it, not even when the guards shoved him the rest of the way into the room. 

"Good evening, Mr. Stark. You're looking a bit… haggard." When he didn’t respond, Schmidt gestured to the food. "Are you hungry?"

He clenched his hands and forced himself to meet Schmidt's gaze. "Not particularly."

"What about a glass of water? You look parched."

He could do this. He could, he could, he could, he… "No, thank you."

Schmidt picked up his knife and fork and began cutting into the steak; a soft whine escaped from Howard's throat. "You were born into an affluent family, were you not, Mr. Stark."

"Yes," he said and his knees shook.

"You've never known true hunger. You've never *wanted* for anything." Schmidt made a moue of disgust at the food on his plate. "The chef always overcooks it."

"What's your point?" He tried to sound angry, but the hunger and the thirst subsumed *everything.*

"No point." Schmidt shoved the plate off the table and onto the floor and Howard let out an involuntary moan, his hands jerking towards the food before he could stop himself. Then Schmidt upended the pitcher. Water cascaded to the floor and puddled on the concrete. "You could go weeks without food. But another day without water will probably kill you." 

Howard almost laughed, but he knew if he did, he might never stop.

"A good host always provides for his guests." Schmidt gestured to the floor.

You can't touch me if I don't let you, he didn't say. Then he got on his knees and crawled toward the puddle of water.

After all, living was winning.

And Howard *always* won.

*****

"Tell me about Captain America, Mr. Stark," Schmidt said, laying the scalpel flat against Howard's skin.

The metal was cool on Howard's blood-sticky chest and he shuddered. "He sells war bonds. Every bond you b-buy is a bullet in the b-barrel of your best guy's gun."

Schmidt ran the blade down Howard's torso, slow, steady and shallow. "Who is Captain America?"

"He's a man with a p-plan." Howard gritted his teeth as Schmidt circled his nipple with the blade.

"Tell. Me."

"He punched Hitler." A whimper escaped his mouth and he squeezed his eyes shut as Schmidt started on his thighs. Oh, God, please make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop!

*****

For Howard, German would always be the language of love.

Like all children growing up in high society, Howard had a nanny. Elisabeth had been born and raised in Vienna, but when she was old enough, she immigrated to America for a better life.

She was a sweet, gentle woman with soft hands and a softer voice. She kissed away his pain and chased the nightmares from his room, murmuring reassurances in her native language. 

German had been theirs, his and Elisabeth's. It was the language she used when she sang him lullabies and told him she loved him. It was the language he used when he told her he loved her, too.

And when he was too old for nannies and she was let go, he held on to his German, held on to it with a tenacity usually reserved for math and chemistry and things made of metal.

He never thought it would come in handy. He'd have to thank Elisabeth the next time he was stateside. 

*****

He heard a lot of secrets.

*****

Drowning was the worst. Every time his head was shoved under the water, he panicked. He tried not to, he did, but eventually he'd try to breathe and it *hurt,* God, it hurt.

It hurt so bad it left him tired. 

It left him thinking that maybe it was his brother who'd really won.

*****

It took Howard a moment to realize the guards weren't escorting him to the interrogation room. For a brief moment, he wondered if they were going to finally kill him. But no, that was ridiculous. They wouldn't bother taking him out for that. They could have just shot him in his cell.

He didn’t ask what they were doing or where they were going; they never spoke to him, no matter how much he bothered them. He'd find out soon enough.

Howard was led to another door and he wondered if this meant a new form of torture. Heat this time, maybe? He shuddered at the thought. 

The guard on the right opened the door and let him into the room.

And, it was…. Oh. Oh, Howard quivered slightly, dazed as he took in the machines and equipment. It was a workroom. It— His palms itched to pick up a screwdriver or a wrench; his throat tightened and his eyes stung.

"Herr Stark?" A squirrely, bespeckled, little man came forward and held out his hand. "It is so very nice to finally meet you."

Instinct took over and he shook the man's hand. "You have me at a disadvantage, Herr…?"

"Zola. Arnim Zola." The man, Zola, beamed at him and it finally processed who he was. Arnim Zola, biochemist, late of the Nazi party, now a member of HYDRA.

Of course, the stick hadn't worked, so now it was time to bring out the carrot. Howard crossed his arms over his chest; at least it was warm here. "So impress me, Doctor Zola."

Zola's eyes narrowed slightly. "You've seen my work, Stark. Are you not already impressed?"

Howard gave a slight smile at Zola's justifiable arrogance. "I was. I am."

Zola gestured for Howard to follow him around the workroom. "As you can see, our technology is far more advanced than anything you've come up with, Stark.

And oh, didn't that sting. "It is impressive. What is the power source for these weapons?" 

"That would be telling." Zola picked up a weapon, a prototype by the look of it, and held it up. "We could work together, Stark. We could change the world." 

"Yeah?" He snorted. "Well, I don't like Schmidt's vision of the future." 

"It is… inevitable." Zola actually sounded regretful.

"Says you." 

"Says Schmidt. Make no mistake, Stark, you will give him the information he requires. Up until now, he has been… restrained." 

Howard gave a slightly hysterical laugh and gestured to himself. "*This* is restrained?" There he was, standing half-naked, barefoot, his torso covered in bruises, dried blood, and long, angry looking cuts.

"You still have a choice. Tell me, Stark, what do you know about wolves?"

"What? Wolves?" He shook his head. "I… they're furry." 

"Yes." Zola smiled grimly. "Wolves have a hierarchical social structure. The alpha is leader: it is the first to eat and the only one allowed to mate. The next in line are the betas, until finally, you have the omega. The bottom of the barrel, as you Americans say. The omega wolf is submissive to the whole pack."

"Well, thanks for the impromptu biology lesson." Why the hell was Zola telling him this?

"Many primates have the same sort of social structure. We humans like to think we're above such things, but we both know that's not true. It's written into our biology, though we prefer to allow culture to dictate our hierarchies these days." 

"What does that have to do with me?" 

"Schmidt does not want to destroy the world, Stark. He wants to conquer it and he will do so by any means necessary. And I… I will help him." Zola took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Erskine found a way to create the perfect man; an alpha. I… I found a way to create the perfect slave, the perfect omega."

Howard's stomach clenched and he took a step back. "You're crazy!"

"I told you, it's a part of our biology."

"A lot of things are a part of our biology, Zola. You can't just… We're reasoning creatures; we're only led by our instincts when we choose to be!" 

"I thought so too." Zola frowned. "But I was wrong. I proved myself wrong. All my subjects submit to Schmidt, in their own ways. He is, after all, the ultimate alpha."

Howard swallowed the bitter taste that flooded his mouth, the turned to his guards. "Take me back to my cell. I don’t have to listen to this… this… bull!"

"Tell him what he wants, Stark. And do it quickly." 

"Go to hell!" Howard snarled. 

*****

They took the rest of his clothes and his bucket.

It didn’t matter. The bucket was already full. 

*****

Schmidt heated each one of his scalpels and pressed the flat of them against the insides of Howard's thighs and arms.

*****

The needles were just as bad as the water. Schmidt…. He…

Howard was so very tired.

*****

Howard struggled against the straps holding him to the table, his eyes wide, body slick with sweat, heart pounding in his chest. "Don't! No, no, no, don't!"

"I have run out of patience, Mr. Stark. I do hope this doesn't kill you." Schmidt pushed the hypodermic needle into Howard's skin.

He screamed as blinding hot agony raced through his veins.

*****

Howard arched, his body trembling with tension, and a low keening sound emerged from his mouth. The straps bit into the flesh of his wrists and ankles and his mind raced, raced to find something to hold onto, something to distract him from the utter torture of of it all. 

Subjects slipped through his mind like water through a sieve. Just pain. Pain, pain, pain, and more pain. He knew he should surrender to it, just slip into the agony that wracked his body.

Surrender, yes, his mind whispered. Give in, give in, so easy to give in. Give Schmidt everything, It's too late now.

But he couldn't, he wouldn't, because he knew, he *knew* that St— that Cap would find him. Save him. He knew and he cradled that thought close, let it take hold, even as he screamed his throat raw.

Captain America would save Howard, because that's what he did. Because—

_I belong to him. I—_

Howard was one of Cap's men, even if he wasn't a soldier. And Cap—

_took care of his things_

—didn't leave men behind. Cap was a— Alpha, his mind whispered—good man. And Howard had always wanted—

Darkness swept over his unfinished thought.

*****

When Howard woke, he was in his cell, curled into a tiny ball, his skin tacky with sweat, his muscles twitching uncontrollably. He slowly uncurled, stretching out on his back, letting the cold of the cement soothe his overheated skin. There was a water stain on the ceiling and he followed the outline of it, thinking of nothing else but its shape until his heartbeat slowed and his muscles settled.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, cataloging his aches and injuries, determining what they would do to his physical response times. Despite what he had been through, it didn't take long and he was forced to… to think about Zola's serum.

It would make him the perfect slave, Zola said. Submissive, pliable; the omega dog to Schmidt's alpha. 

God, he didn't feel different. He didn't feel submissive or… or pliable. And the very idea of—He rolled over quickly, scrambling to his knees and vomited up what little there was in his stomach.

He took a shaky breath and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

No, no, he wasn't… he *wasn't* some mindless animal. He was a logical, reasoning, human being. And just because he got injected with some damn chemistry experiment didn't mean that was going to change.

Howard had made a promise to himself, back when he was seventeen, and he was going to keep that promise. He was never going to allow another person to break him again. He was not going to be cowed by Schmidt. 

He…. Schmidt thought he was an alpha, but Howard knew the truth: he was Erskine's mistake, Erskine's *failure.* And that he would try to hold himself above all others was laughable. He wasn't—

— Cap. Wasn't warm skin stretched over sculpted muscle, big callused hands, and a smile, god, godgodgodgod, that smile, how would it feel pressed against his neck and belly, all his vulnerable places, so good sogoodsosososo—

Howard gasped in surprise because—he was hard, oh, God he was so damn hard—what was *that.* What the hell was that? He'd never… he…

No, he needed to concentrate. He needed to be ready for Schmidt. He had to reason, to *think.* Schmidt and Zola were crazy if they thought they could fundamentally change someone's personality like that. 

Wolves? Really? Howard rubbed his eyes and gritted his teeth. People didn't form packs, they didn't…

Have squads, his traitorous mind supplied, social circles, clubs, teams, *families.*

—Howard staggered back into the wall, dizzy with pain, blood flooding his mouth as his father snarled, "Do as you're told, boy, or I'll give you worse than a bloody lip."—

What he needed to do was concentrate because his father was thousands of miles and an ocean away. He was a lone wolf now. He—

—Laughter filled the room as the Howling Commandos ambled into the lab. And he'd be annoyed, he would, but Dugan slung an arm around his shoulders and said in a warm voice, "How's our genius millionaire doing? Got any new toys for us to play with?"—

Stop, he needed to stop. Concentrate. Think.

*Plan.*

*****

When the guards came for him, he was ready. And he was, but just barely. There was no denying his reaction: the fear tightening in his belly, his knees going weak, and the unbearable desire to drop to his knees and whimper.

Howard clenched his teeth and stood, as straight and tall as he could manage, chin lifted slightly, hands in defiant fists at his sides. He made sure that his gaze met each masked face, then he grinned. "Let's go."

The walk down the hall seemed a hundred times worse, not only was there the fear of what was to come, but the guards made the hair on his body stand on end and he had to force himself not to make a run for it.

Of course, his reaction to Schmidt was worse. So much worse.

Schmidt wasn’t wearing his mask and it was the first time Howard had ever seen his true face. An involuntary cry escaped from Howard, his gaze dropping to the ground, his shoulders hunching and if he hadn't locked his knees, he… he'd be kneeling.

Schmidt laughed softly. "Doctor Zola's serum is a marvel, is it not, Mr. Stark? One of the specimens in our experiments actually killed the others to be the first to obey my order. What sort of specimen will you be, I wonder? Kneel!"

Howard's knees shook violently and a trickle of sweat slid down his back. He needed…. God, he needed to obey. He… No! No, no, no. Not. An. Animal. He pulled back his shoulders, lifted his head, and forced his eyes to meet Schmidt's. "No!"

Schmidt's gaze turned murderous and Howard keened softly. "Kneel."

Howard opened his mouth, but the only sound that would come was a whimper, so he shook his head. Schmidt backhanded him and Howard staggered. Strangely, the blow cleared his head. He spat blood on the floor, and said, voice trembling, "You hit like a girl." 

Schmidt raised his hand to hit Howard again, when there was the sound of an explosion: the walls shook and the lights flickered.

Howard grinned. 

*****

Schmidt left him locked in the interrogation room while they "dealt with the intruders." 

Howard didn't care. He yelled at the top of his lungs, he grabbed the chair that was in the room and beat it against the metal door until chair bent and warped under the assault. And, finally, he used his fists and feet.

The lights flickered again and there was another explosion, this one sounding closer than the last. Howard took a few steps back, wheezing harshly, distracted by the painful throb of his hands and feet.

It was then that the door opened. For a moment, Howard panicked, then he caught sight of the red, white, and blue of Cap's uniform. His legs folded underneath him and heat bloomed in his belly and he knew he should say something, anything, but he just stared at the white star on Cap's chest, his thoughts racing through his mind, too slippery to hold onto.

A smile curved Howard's lips and he followed the star down when Cap knelt next to him and said his name. Concern and relief colored Cap's voice and something in Howard broke, finally. He launched himself into Cap's arms, burrowing his face against Cap's chest.

"You came," he said, choking and stumbling over the words. "You came for me." 

"Howard," Cap said, surprised, arms wrapping around his body gently. "Of course I did. Shh, it's okay now. You're safe. We're gonna get you home."

He was home, right here, he was home. He closed his eyes and lifted his chin. Lifted…

Cap cupped the back of Howard's neck and gently stroked a thumb against his throat. Howard let out a happy little moan and wiggled closer.

*****

Howard knew that something was wrong by the way Cap and the Commandos kept looking at him. But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why.

Yes, he still hurt, but he was warm, well fed, and safely tucked against Cap's side. 

He couldn't be happier. 

*****

Howard woke to the sound of a dog howling in the distance, and he shivered, goose bumps prickling his skin. He blinked in confusion, wondering why the ground shook underneath him. Then he remembered, he was in the bed of the truck they liberated from the HYDRA base, buried under every blanket they could find. He rubbed his eyes and peered out into the darkness of an almost moonless night.

"Steve's up front," said a voice softly to his right and he tensed before recognizing it. Bucky, it was Bucky.

"Oh." His faced flushed as he remembered his reaction to Cap, the way he clung to Cap, docile and witless. What the hell was that? Why had he reacted that way? 

"You thirsty?" Bucky shifted and suddenly Howard could see his face.

Howard's gaze shifted down to Bucky's chin and he shook his head. Despite the aversion to looking into Bucky's eyes, he was surprised to realize he wasn't afraid. He didn't feel the urge to curl up on himself, his pulse didn’t race, he didn't feel like hiding. But it was obvious that Bucky was… No, he didn't want to think about it right now.

"It gets easier."

"What?" He opened his eyes and, oh, look, there was Bucky's chin again.

Bucky cleared his throat and shifted slightly. "It's hard now, but it gets easier. We all… We all know what it's like. *I* know what it's like. So, if you need someone to throw back a few drinks with you, drown your sorrows, any of us would be happy to let you buy us a drink." He flashed Howard a grin. "Or a dozen." 

Howard chuckled softly, warmth unfurling in his belly. He was safe with these men. He was safe. They—

—were Cap's— 

understood. 

"Thanks," Howard said, and he meant it to be wry, but it came out more gently than he expected. "I'll keep that in mind." 

"Try and get some more shuteye. We'll be at the rendezvous point by dawn. It's going to be a long day."

"Okay." He nodded and closed his eyes.

"You were so close," Bucky murmured. "That's why we didn't find you sooner. We thought he'd hide you away." 

*****

Howard felt the tension in his shoulders ease as he and Cap slowly made their way through SSR's base towards the infirmary. He didn't want to go, he hated hospitals of any kind, but he wasn't stupid, he knew how dangerous an infection could be.

"You don't have to escort me, Cap," he said, though he couldn’t help but feel pleased about it.

Cap snorted and put a hand on his shoulder; Howard leaned into the touch, just slightly. "I know you, Howard. If I let you go off on your own, you'll find yourself in the lab instead of getting looked at."

Howard flushed because of course he would. "I really do feel all right."

"You can barely walk and you've had a low-grade fever since we rescued you," Cap gently squeezed his shoulder "No excuses, Stark."

"No, Captain," he said quickly, ducking his head at the rebuke. "No excuses."

Cap didn't say anything else and when they reached the double doors to the infirmary, he pushed them open and ushered Howard inside.

The smell of disinfectant hit him like a brick and he gagged, suddenly. He—

All of Schmidt's toys lay on a long table, glinting, sharp and dangerous, in the bright room. No, no, he wasn't going to be a lamb to slaughter. He wasn't going to make it easy for that monster to hurt him.

He elbowed the guard at his side, hearing a satisfying 'oof' then tried to dart back through the door, but the guard was fast, too fast. The guard grabbed Howard around the waist and tried to immobilize him.

"Stop it, Howard! Stop fighting." 

"Go fuck yourself, you bastard." He couldn't do it. He couldn't go another session with Schmidt, he couldn't. He clawed at the arms holding him and kicked hard, but the guard held fast.

"Get something to knock him out," someone said. 

Then Schmidt appeared. He smiled and slowly walked towards Howard, a hypodermic needle in his hand "Hold him still."

"I don't know anything! Please let me go!" His heartbeat raced and he was panting with fear. "Please, I don't know anything. I don't—*Please.*"

"This will help you, Mr. Stark."

"Fuck you," he said. When the needle bit into his flesh, he didn't flinch. He fought against the impending darkness. "When my friends find me, you're going to wish you were never born. You…"

*****

Howard's throat hurt. His throat hurt, his feet ached, and someone was in the room with him. 

Schmidt? No, he was lying on a soft bed and it didn’t smell like Schmidt's base. It smelled like roses.

"I know you're awake, Howard. Open your eyes." 

—Cap's girl—

"Agent Carter," he said, hoarsely, and smiled. He opened his eyes and took in the graceful line of her jaw, the bright red curve of her lips, and the delicate sweep of her cheekbones. Then he looked over her shoulder at the wall.

"You look like hell."

"And you are a vision. As always." That was all right, she knew he was kidding. Her heart belonged to Cap and they both knew it.

"You gave us quite a scare." She sat on the bed, taking care not to disturb the IV in his arm.

Shame filled him and he turned his head away. He caused so much trouble by being disobedient. What was wrong with him? "I'm sorry. I know Colonel Phillips said—"

"Howard." Peggy touched his arm. "We're just glad you're safe and back with us."

He nodded and took a deep breath. He had to change the subject before he lost control of himself. "You're here to debrief me?"

"If you're up to it." She took his hand and squeezed gently. "Will you look at me?"

Right, eye contact. He knew that. She shouldn't have had to mention it. Think, he had to *think* if he wanted to keep them from finding out. He steeled himself and slowly turned to look into her eyes. "Of course." 

He met her eyes for three seconds then let his gaze slide away again. He would initiate eye-contact every three and a half minutes. He could do that. 

"Howard?" 

"Where do we start?" he asked, lightly.

"With the night you were captured."

"Okay. Help me sit up first, please." He sat up and she tucked pillows behind his back. "The beginning."

He did his best to gloss over the torture, but he was very adamant in telling her he didn't give up any information. When he told her about overhearing the guards talk about a secret base in the Alps, she smiled.

"The Colonel and Captain Rogers will be glad to hear that information. But that is a lot of ground to cover."

"A base like that has to give off some sort of energy or heat readings. Give me a week and I'll have something figured out." 

"Yes, about that." Her lips pressed together. "Colonel Phillips feels it best that you go home to finish your work. You'll be safer there and—"

"No!" Panic clawed at him and he clamped down on it hard. He forced himself to look into her eyes and hold her gaze. "I'm fine, Peggy."

"You were tortured for a month and a half." 

"I'm not that fragile. I can handle it."

"You're sweating like a pig. You have battle fatigue."

"I'm not going back to the States. Cap and his men need me, I'm the only one who can outfit them right. If they're going to beat Schmidt, they need the best. And I'm the best, Peggy. You know it, I know it, and the Colonel knows it." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"When Steve brought you into the infirmary, you thought you were back at Schmidt's base."

"I can handle it." He opened his eyes and looked at her imploringly. "Trust me, please. Please, I need this. I need to help bring Schmidt down." 

She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'll talk to Phillips." 

"Thank you." He slumped back onto the pillows.

"I should let you get some rest." She stroked his hair and he smiled, oh, that felt good.

He waited a few minutes after she'd left the room before he fell apart.

*****

Every morning since he left the infirmary, Howard woke an hour earlier than normal to run through his day. He planned out where he would go, at what time, and who he would probably meet throughout the day. He ran through conversations, his responses, his body language, the responses of the other person.

And when he had it all in his head, he'd get ready for the day. When he stepped out of the room, he kept his back straight, head held high, and made sure to meet the gazes of those he met.

When he got back in the evenings, he spent an hour huddled in a corner, shaking. Once he calmed down, he ran through his day, picking apart his interactions so that he'd do better next time. 

*****

"How's the energy detector coming along?" Cap asked as he strode into the room to stand next to Howard.

All of Howard's planning, every inch of control he managed to gain for himself, gave way to the sound of that voice. Howard's eyes dropped to the floor and his knees shook, but not with fear. He wanted to drop to his knees. He wanted to bare his throat and offer himself and the only reason why he didn't was the deep-seated knowledge that it would upset Cap. Though for the life of him, he didn't know why. 

"Howard? The detector?" 

"Fine," he said, his voice husky. "It's almost done. I just need to make a few adjustments." 

"Good. The sooner we have that detector, the sooner we can get Schmidt."

"Yeah." He shifted slightly, so that his arm brushed Cap's. He bit his lip to keep a gasp from escaping.

"Are you okay, Howard?" Cap gripped his arm and Howard stepped closer, lifting his gaze to Cap's throat.

"Perfect now that you're here." And he didn’t mean to say it, but it was the truth, and Cap deserved the truth. Always.

"Geez, Howard." Cap's throat was flushed and Howard knew if he looked up, Cap's face would be, too. "You shouldn’t say things like that. People will talk." 

"People already talk about me." He laid his hand on Cap's chest.

"I don't listen to gossip." Cap let go of his arm and took a step back. "When will the detector be ready?"

Howard sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Another couple of days."

"Let me know when it's done." Then Cap turned and walked away.

"Yes, sir," he said softly. When Cap was gone, he took a deep breath, and shuddered, his brain clearing. 

God, he had to find a way to stop reacting like that. People *were* starting to talk, and he couldn’t afford to get shipped back, not the way he was now, not with *that* rumor hanging over his head.

He'd always been discreet. Rich or not, powerful or not, if people found out about his… his preferences, he'd wind up in prison or under psychiatric care. Neither which appealed to him. 

Maybe he needed to… to find some companionship for the night. Yeah, maybe that's exactly what he needed. 

*****

It was easier than he thought it would be, but then, the London police had bigger things to worry about than two men looking for a good time.

And oh, Howard planned to have such a *good* time.

"What's your name?" he asked, as the blond shoved him up against the wall of the alley and sucked on his neck.

"Richard. You?"

Howard smiled and rubbed the front of Richard's pants. "Anthony. You're a big boy, Richard. A handful."

Richard licked Howard's mouth and murmured, "Yeah. You give me a hand and I'll give you one." 

Fuck, fuck, that sounded perfect: quick and uncomplicated. 

After a bit of fumbling, they were both on their way. 

It was good, it was so good, stroking and being stroked, licking the sweat off another man's jaw, making soft little moans while moving his hips. The wonderfully slow build towards orgasm.

He knew it would be like this with Cap. No, no, it would be better because—

No, dammit, no!

Howard rubbed his thumb against Richard's slit and gave a little twist. Richard groaned, hips stilling as he spilled in Howard's hand.

Richard continued to stroke him and, fuck, Howard was right on the edge, right there, he just needed that little bit to send him over the edge. He just… It wasn't happening and if Richard kept on much longer, it'd start to hurt.

"You okay there, Anthony? My wrist is starting to ache." 

"Stop," he said. "Please, just stop!"

Richard let him go. "What's wrong?"

Howard shook his head and straightened his clothing with shaking hands. "You're not who I need. I'm sorry, I…" He stumbled out of the alley before he could make a bigger fool out of himself. 

God, God, he needed to find a way out of this mess. 

Cap had a girl. He had *Peggy.* 

And no matter how much Howard needed Cap to… to be there for him, it wasn't going to happen. It just wasn't.

*****

Howard was no stranger to nightmares. They had plagued him when he was a child. Visions of a dark room filled with darker shadows that hid something, someone, that paralyzed him with terror. He remembered waking from those dreams, heart pounding in his chest, body drenched in sweat, a scream stuck in his throat. Terror beyond all terror, he thought.

There were no shadows in these nightmares, no hidden or half-formed monsters. Schmidt, it was always Schmidt, stood in a brilliantly lit room, his red skull-like face grinning, a scalpel glinting in his hand.

In the dream, Howard tried to run, but fear made it impossible to move. And when Schmidt walked towards him, eyes burning like the inside of a furnace, Howard opened his mouth to scream for help and blood poured from his mouth and he realized he couldn't scream, couldn't beg, couldn't cry out for help because Schmidt had cut out his tongue. 

*****

Howard was late. He was late and Phillips was waiting for him at the lab to show off the newly finished detector and he hadn't had time to run through his day this morning. Howard's nerves jittered and jangled and his shoulders slumped as he rushed down the hallway, weaving through the stream of people, muttering frantic apologies.

When he stumbled through the doorway of the lab, everyone stopped and stared at him, and he bit back a whimper. Fuck, Phillips was waiting. Of course he was waiting. He probably got to the lab early.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Phillip said. "You're late, Stark." 

The rebuke was like a slap to the face and Howard gasped softly "Sorry, I'm sorry. I—"

"*I* don't want to hear your excuses."

No, no, of course he didn't. Howard swallowed hard and fumbled with a pile of papers on his workbench to hide the shaking of his hands. Keep it together, he thought. He took another deep breath and reminded himself that Phillips was all bark and no bite. Besides, Cap wouldn't—He cut off that line of thinking. 

"Of course you don't want to hear any excuses." He straightened, met Phillip's eyes, and smiled. "You want results. And I'm just the guy to give them to you."

He took his time walking across the room to grab the detector, not to annoy Phillips—God, he didn't want to annoy the Colonel—but to give him time to pull himself together. Phillips was harder to fool than anyone else on base. 

Howard wiped his hands on his pants before picking up the device, and taking it back.

"It's small," Phillips said, his gruff voice rasping over Howard's nerves like sandpaper.

"It's supposed to be. It attaches to the radar of an airplane. It should pick up any massive heat or power readings. It'll even pick up readings on that funny new element Schmidt is using to power all his weapons."

Phillips grunted. "It's a good thing I decided to keep you around, Stark. How long do you need to install the thing?" 

"A couple of hours." 

"Then I guess I'll have to requisition us a plane. Expect to install it tomorrow." 

"Yes, sir," he said softly as Phillips marched out.

He set down the device and crossed his arms over his chest as he shook. He had to calm down. He… he didn’t have time to have an attack of nerves. He had to triple check the device, then make sure that Cap and the Commandos' weapons were in good working order. 

Fuck! Fuck, it would take too long to calm himself down. He shouldn't do it. He'd always managed to find other ways. But, he didn't have time to coddle himself. No matter how humiliating it was—

—liar liar liar liar it felt so good to just bask in it to just—

Howard had to deal with it. He scrubbed his lips with the back of his hand, wiped the sweat from his face, and went down to the gym.

The fear and anxiety slipped away as he watched Cap pound a punching bag to death. 

*****

Howard was alone in the workroom, sketching out a few doodles, letting his mind spin out fantastic ideas, some of which might even be possible, when he heard the door open. He tensed slightly and held his breath, but continued to run his pencil down the paper in a long line.

"Steve was right, you do work too much."

He let out his breath in a huff and relaxed. "Hey, Bucky. I thought you and the guys were going out for a drink." 

"We are." Bucky leaned against the table and Howard could practically feel him staring. "I was just wondering if you wanted to come along, buy us a couple of rounds."

He smiled and put down the pencil. "Cap gonna be there?" Dammit, he hadn't meant to say that.

"Nope, he's got a date with the lovely Agent Carter." He nudged Howard's shoulder. "We're just as interesting as Steve. Actually, we're more interesting than Steve. C'mon, it'll be fun."

He shouldn't, getting drunk would be stupid and reckless and who knew what he might let slip. 

"We'll put the first round on Steve's tab," Bucky said, and it was the warmth in his voice that undid Howard.

"All right, fine. But I'm not buying *every* round after the first one. I've seen how much Dum Dum can drink. He'll bankrupt me." He got to his feet and stretched to get the kinks out of his back.

"Don't worry, we can't get too drunk. We ship out in the morning." Bucky put an arm around his shoulders and out of the corner of his eye he could see that Bucky was smiling. 

He didn't lean into Bucky's touch, but it was a near thing.

*****

The table was sticky against Howard's cheek, sticky and very uncomfortable, but the room was spinning too much for him to care.

"Jesus, Stark, you're a lightweight," Dum Dum said, but not meanly, so that was all right, and the others laughed. 

"Not all of us have a hollow leg," he replied slowly and smiled when he didn't slur or stumble his words.

"Maybe I ought to get him home." That from Bucky, who stood, and hauled Howard to his feet.

"I 'c'n do it!" But he didn’t fight it when Bucky put an arm around his waist and half-dragged him out of the pub.

"You still bunking on base?" 

"Yeah, but I don't want to go there. Can I go home with you?"

Bucky stopped and stared at Howard, who dropped his gaze and tensed. "I ain't like that." 

"I didn't say you were," he whispered. Sometimes, he was such an idiot. "I have nightmares." 

"So what?" Bucky said harshly.

"You said…" He swallowed hard and readied himself for a punch. "You said you understood. About… about Schmidt and… Sorry." He tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t let him go.

"No, I… I'm sorry." Bucky turned them around to head towards his room at the boarding house.

"You don't have to worry, you're not my type."

"Yeah, what type is that?"

"Blonds," he said, before he could stop himself and, God, he really was looking for a bloody nose, wasn't he?

Surprisingly, Bucky laughed. "Agent Carter would shoot you before you even had a chance."

He smiled. "Yeah, she probably would. Not that I'd… I know he loves her and I wouldn't…" Cap liked girls.

"Shut up, Stark. You're babbling." 

Howard closed his mouth and didn't say anything the rest of the way to the boarding house.

When they got to Bucky's room, he dumped Howard onto the bed and pulled off his shoes. "You can stay here tonight."

He nodded and stared up at the ceiling while Bucky moved around the room packing for the next day. "I dream about him."

"Who?"

"Schmidt." He took off his tie and shucked off his jacket. "I… Most of the time, I dream about what happened. But sometimes, my dreams are worse. I'll dream that he cut off my hand or my leg or that he broke me and I told him all my secrets. When I wake up, there are times I think I'm still back there. With him." 

"Yeah." Bucky walked over and sat on the bed. "Those first few months, after Steve rescued us, I used to dream that he cut off my arms and left me there to bleed out. And I couldn’t do anything… I couldn't—"

"Do you still dream about it?" Howard thought he knew the answer, but he wanted Bucky to say it.

"Sometimes. Not as much as I used to. It helped that Steve was there for me. When I needed to talk, he listened. Some nights, we didn't even say anything at all, He just sat there next to me, quiet, because that's what I needed." Bucky touched Howard's arm and squeezed gently. "What do you need, Howard?"

Howard closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. He needed a lot of things, most of which he couldn't tell Bucky. "I…" 

"I'm gonna tell you what Steve told me, when I was being stubborn. What happened to you, Howard, no one should have to suffer through that. No one. But you did. And it's not your fault. Needing help doesn't make you weak, it makes you human. I'm here for you, whatever you need."

He opened his eyes and forced himself to look into Bucky's eyes. "I… I need someone to wake me up when I have a nightmare, wake me up and tell me I'm safe."

"I can do that, Howard. I can do that. "


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain things come to light, Howard has a breakdown, and then things get really confusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is never going to end. Never. *sighs* Why, why, *why* did things suddenly get so complicated? Stupid story and stupid everything else. Grah!

Howard felt fantastic. Thanks to his information, and the power detector he built—because he was a genius—Cap and the Howling Commandos managed to find Schmidt's base in record time. Phillips and Peggy sprang into action, and in no time they were launching a full-scale assault on HYDRA.

The reports coming into base were good, almost gleeful, just as he knew they would be. Schmidt got away, but they managed to destroy the base and confiscated the weapons and other equipment.

They would beat Schmidt, then they would kick Hitler's ass.

*****

Howard enjoyed being alone in the lab; he always had, even before… everything. There was something relaxing about sitting at his worktable in a silent room, coaxing machines to do what he wanted them to or building things out of scraps of metal.

He could relax when he was alone, the pressure of fighting, always fighting, his new desires melted away and he could breathe. The only other time he felt this way was when he was with Cap. Of course, that ease was for a different reason entirely. His will seemed to crumble in Cap's presence 

He rolled his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck. He should probably get some sleep. He was expecting the equipment from Schmidt's base any day now. He got up, stretched, and headed towards the door when it opened and Peggy slipped into the room.

"Peggy," he said, delighted, rushing over to her. "I wasn't expecting you back for another couple of days. Did Cap come with you?" 

"Things went more quickly than we expected. And yes, he did." Her tone was light, but there was a tension in her jaw that spoke of unease. "If you're not busy, we'd love to get the briefing out of the way." 

"I was just going to head off to bed, but that could wait for a few hours longer."

"Womderful." She took his arm and smiled—it looked wrong, all wrong—and led him out of the room.

He frowned slightly, but obediently walked alongside her. "Is everything all right? Is… Did we lose…" His throat tightened. 

"We had some loses, but, no, Howard, no one you knew." She squeezed his arm gently and steered him away from the war room.

"We're not—"

"No. This requires some secrecy. Now don't ask any more questions, Howard. Please." Her voice shook slightly and her grip on his arm became slightly painful. 

"Alright" Howard wondered if they lost someone *she* knew. He hoped not. It was hard enough when the soldiers—some of them were so young, just boys really—were just nameless faces. 

He took a deep breath and put it out of his mind. Instead, he looked around; this was a part of the base he never visited. He was strictly weaponry; he had no reason to visit the prisoner cells. 

"Are we—" he started, but she hushed him and opened one of the doors. 

He hesitated slightly when he realized that they were walking into the interrogation room, but Peggy tugged at his arm, and he followed her in. He smiled before he could stop himself, the tension draining from his body.

"Cap," he said in a soft and breathless voice. Phillips was there too, looking grim, but he mattered less, so much less than Cap.

"Howard." Cap sounded like he just lost his best friend and Howard frowned.

"What's wrong?" Howard looked at Cap's mouth; like Peggy, there was a tension there that he didn't like. 

"Kneel," Cap said and held out a knife. "Take this."

Howard did as he was told, feeling a thrill run up his spine. How many times had he imagined this scene, sans knife, since he came back? "Is this all right?" 

"Perfect."

Oh, yes; Howard shivered as pleasure unfurled in his belly.

Cap let out a soft huff, then cleared his throat. "I want you to take the knife and make a shallow cut across your right palm, Howard."

He hissed softly as he ran the edge of the knife across his palm. Blood welled up and the cut stung. "Is that perfect, too?" he asked hopefully.

Both Phillips and Peggy cursed, but Cap just plucked the knife from his grasp, handed him a handkerchief, and told him to stop the bleeding. 

"Didn't I do it right?" Panic welled up and he pressed the handkerchief against his palm.

"You did fine, Howard. Now sit down." Steve patted one of the chairs. "We need to talk."

He did as he was told, looking from mouth to mouth, cataloging the tension there. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Phillips slammed his hands down on the table and Howard flinched, ducking his head. "You didn't think it was important to tell us that Schmidt had turned you into his goddamn patsy?"

"Howard," Peggy said and touched his shoulder, "Schmidt got away, but we managed to capture Zola. He told us… He told us about the Omega Serum." 

"The Omega Serum?" Howard snorted and glanced at Cap to check his reaction; he looked upset, but not angry. "He needs to work on his naming conventions."

"This isn't a joke, Stark!" Phillips was furious, and, yes, Howard was concerned but…

"Are you mad, Cap?" Because he didn't want Cap to be angry.

"I'm not mad. I'm just… Why didn't you tell us, Howard? Did Schmidt tell you to keep it from us?"

"No!" Howard shook his head. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd send me home. I wanted to stay here and help you!" 

Cap walked over and leaned against the table. He put his hand on Howard's shoulder. "What did you tell Schmidt, Howard? Did you tell him about me? About the SSR and Operation: Rebirth? It's okay if you did. I don't blame you, no one does. We just need to know what you told him."

"No, I…" A growing sense of horror filled him. They thought he was a traitor! They thought he turned on them. "I didn't tell him anything! Cap, I swear! I didn't say anything to him! I didn't break."

"Howard, no one is blaming you," Peggy said. "Zola told us that you wouldn't be able to resist Schmidt." 

"Zola is a coward and liar!" His eyes stung and he stumbled out of the chair to grasp Cap's arms. "I would never betray you, Cap! Never. I'd die first."

"What did you tell Schmidt, Howard?"

"Nothing!" Howard closed his eyes and fought back the tears that threatened to emerge. "Reason and logic can win over instinct. I can fight my impulses, we all can! I don't have to follow every instinctual desire."

"You cut your hand when I told you to."

"You're different," he cried.

"Why?" Cap asked and gently pushed Howard away.

Howard opened his eyes and stared at the white star on Cap's chest. "Because I belong to you."

"You *what!*" The outrage in Cap's voice made Howard cringe and rush to explain.

"Zola said the serum made people slaves, it made them obey the alphas and no one was more alpha than Schmidt. But that's wrong. Schmidt is mistake, a monster. You're the alpha, Cap. M-My alpha. You're honest and trustworthy and kind and I know you'd never hurt me." He took a deep breath and touched Cap's chest. "After I was given the serum, Schmidt questioned me and I didn’t tell him anything. I'm not his, I'll never be his. I'm yours."

"No," Cap said gently. "Howard, no. You don’t belong to me. You're *not* mine."

Howard gasped; those words felt like someone had shoved a knife in his belly and twisted it. He didn't…. He stood there, tense, trying to grasp those words because they didn’t make sense. Cap didn't… didn't want him.

He didn't belong to Cap, wasn't a part of his team. Howard made a soft, pained sound.

"Stark," Phillips said. "Until we know more about the Omega Serum and how it's affected you, we're going to have to keep you under lock and key. I'm sorry."

Howard closed his eyes against the utter despair he felt. 

*****

As cells went, he'd been in worse. He got a bed this time and an en suite. No bucket for him. Of course, he wasn't allowed anything sharp: no razor for shaving, no knife or fork when he ate, not even a damn pencil! What the hell was he supposed to do with a pencil? Try to stab himself in the heart? They also took his tie, shoelaces, and suspenders.

He wasn't allowed any privacy either. There was a one-way window on the far wall and he wondered how often he was watched. That would have been boring work.

He didn't move from the bed very often. He couldn't. His future, with its infinite possibilities, seemed to be fading before his eyes. The brass knew and soon so would his father; there was no one to shield him—

—Cap didn't want him. He'd done something wrong, something unforgivable. If he could only figure out what it was. If only Cap would tell him he could fix it, He could, he knew he could. Please, God, please, if only Cap would just *say—

Howard rolled onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow to muffle the desperate, pained, sounds coming from his mouth

If Cap were here, he'd get on his knees and beg, he'd promise anything for Cap to take back those words. He knew it was illogical, that it was *irrational,* but he couldn't deny the emptiness he felt inside, the complete and utter despair that left him gasping for breath and on the edge of tears.

He had nothing now. He was nothing. He—

There was a knock on the door, which might have been funny if he were in the mood for humor, then it opened. It was too early for lunch, so he turned his head to see who was visiting him today. 

Peggy. He clenched a hand around a corner of the pillow and struggled to keep from questioning her about Cap. 

She walked over to the bed, a book and a folder in her hands. She sat down and set the book on the bed next to him. "I thought you might like something to read."

"Thank you," he said softly, but didn't touch it.

"I'm sorry I haven't been by sooner, but it's been a busy few days."

No one had been by, unless you counted the soldier bringing his meals. Which he didn't. He shrugged and rolled onto his back. She was playing with the file in her hand; he opened his mouth to ask her to stop. "How's Cap?"

Damn it! He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a frustrated growl. 

"He's fine," she said. "Busy."

Of course he was; he was Captain America. Howard opened his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing." Peggy reached out to touch his hand, but he made a terrified sound and she snatched her hand back. "Howard?"

"Please, don't!" He fought to control the fear that clawed at him.

"Why not? You've never had a problem before."

"You're Cap's girl and I—I'm not…" Not his anymore, he didn't say, but she seemed to understand.

"And you think he'd be angry?" she asked.

Howard shook his head, because of course he didn't. Cap knew Peggy could take care of herself. She could touch whom she wanted. But that didn’t change the fact that when she reached over, a strong sense of fear overwhelmed him because she wasn't his to touch. Not for the first time, he wondered what the fuck Zola's serum actually *did* to the human mind.

He swallowed hard, wiped his mouth with a shaky hand, and gestured to the file. "W-What do you really want?"

"The Colonel asked me to talk to you about your last briefing. He wanted to give you a chance to fill in the blanks." 

Fill in where he'd left things out, she meant. 

"If you'd rather do it another time, Howard, we can."

"No, no, let's do it now." He tried to smile. "From the beginning, right?" 

"Right." She hesitated a moment, then said, "We have Zola working an antidote. Howard, don't give up hope."

He glanced into her eyes; they were red, as if she hadn't been sleeping. "It was the evening of the fifteenth…"

*****

Howard was stretched out in his bed, Cap above him, naked and hot, pressing hot kisses down his throat, murmuring loving words against his skin. 

He felt loved, wanted, owned.

He ran in his fingers through Cap's hair, whispering words of his own, promises he meant to keep.

"You're mine," Cap said, hands parting Howard's thighs before settling on his hips. "I'm going to fuck you, Howard. I'm going to spill inside of you."

Howard moaned, arched up to rub his cock against Cap's belly—

"Up and at 'em, soldier! Up, up, up!"

Howard jerked awake, his heart pounding in his chest, his cock hard and aching. He slowly lifted his head and looked around the brightly lit room, confused and unsure. Where—What – "Colonel?"

"Out of bed, Stark." Phillips gestured for him to hurry. "You and I are going to have a conversation. Move it!"

He actually had one foot on the ground before he realized that letting Phillips see him half-naked and hard was probably a bad idea. He rubbed his eyes, pulled up the covers a bit more, and said, "What do you want?"

"I told you, we're going to have a conversation. Now get your ass out of bed before I drag you out."

Howard glanced up at Phillips' face and blanched; the Colonel was completely serious. He climbed out of bed, pulling the sheet with him and wrapping it around his body. "So what did you want to talk about, sir?" 

Phillips smiled and stalked forward; Howard instinctively took a few steps back before he could stop himself. "I think you know, Stark."

He bit back a frustrated groan. "I didn't tell Schmidt anything!" 

"So you've said. Repeatedly. Look me in the eyes, Stark!"

Howard didn't want to, the very idea made his skin crawl, but he lifted his gaze to Phillips'. He shuddered and swallowed hard. "I didn't tell him anything!"

"You know, the top brass told me to keep you away from this project. Oh, he's brilliant, they said, and spoiled, reckless, irresponsible."

"Irresponsible! I run a multi-million dollar company and I'm the *only* weapons manufacturer that has a military contract!"

"They said a lot of other things too. But to be honest, Stark, I don't give a damn what you do in your spare time, or who you do it with. As long as you're doing what I recruited you for." Phillips shoved him against the wall. Howard cringed and whimpered. "If I find out you're lying about not spilling our secrets to Schmidt, I'll make sure that the other convicts in whatever prison they send you to, know exactly what kind of man you are, Stark. Are we clear?"

"I didn't tell him anything," Howard said, his voice shaking.

Phillips leaned in and whispered into his ear. "Are we clear?"

He swallowed hard and nodded.

"Good. I'm glad we had this talk." Phillips let him go and headed out the door. 

Howard waited until he left, then he slid down the wall, buried his face in his hands, and sobbed quietly.

*****

Howard didn't bother getting dressed. He lay in bed, in his underwear, and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered when they should ship him back stateside. Would they prosecute him for treason? Would they—He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. It didn't matter, he supposed. There was nothing he could do about it.

He heard the lock turned, then the door open and close. He frowned; it was still too early for dinner, wasn't it? God, he didn't know anymore. He supposed it could be the doctor to draw blood again. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed, they'd go away.

"Wow, you look like hell."

"Bucky?" Howard opened his eyes and sat up. "How—How did you get in here?"

"The door." Bucky shoved his legs out of the way and sat on the bed. 

"You know what I mean," he said.

"The guard owes me twenty bucks. I told him I'd forget it if I could talk to you." Bucky pulled out a flask from his jacket and tossed it at Howard. "I heard Phillips reamed you a new one."

"Where did you hear that?" Howard opened the flask and took a drink. "Ugh, what is this? It tastes like something you'd use to shine shoes." 

"Beggars can't be choosers, Howard." He snatched the flask from Howard's hand and took a swig. "And Steve told me. I've never seen him so mad. He was ready to lop Phillip's head off with his shield."

"Really?" he asked, his voice small and hopeful; he winced at how pathetic he sounded.

Bucky stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. "Steve wasn't joking, was he? You really are obsessed with him. I thought it was just 'cause, you know." He made a limp-wristed gesture.

Howard glanced at the window and scowled. "I've had plenty of dames. And unlike the ones you've been with, none of mine have complained."

"Hey!" 

Bucky pulled back a fist and Howard knew, he *knew* it was just going to be a playful punch, but the fear that rushed through him, intense and all-consuming, made him cringe and flinch away.

"Howard?" Bucky let his fist drop to the bed. "You alright?"

He laughed bitterly. "Of course I am? Don't I look alright?"

"You wanna talk about it?"

"What is there to talk about?" He gestured to the door. "They think I'm a traitor! They think I spilled my guts to Schmidt!"

"Did you?" Bucky asked softly.

"No," he said harshly. His eyes filled with tears and he let out a frustrated cry. "I didn't say anything to him. I swear, Bucky! I swear. Why won't anyone believe me! He…He tortured me! He beat me and cut me and burned me and… I didn't say anything!

"I…" Howard shook with emotion and gasped for breath. "And then he injected me with that drug. I wanted to... I wanted to tell him. I *needed* to, but I didn't. I told myself that he was a monster, a mistake. I told myself that Cap would be upset if I did. I just had to hold on until he rescued me."

"And he did," Bucky said softly.

"Yeah." Howard rubbed his stinging eyes. "I guess, I guess I fixated on him too much because when I'm around him, I… I want to make him happy. I want…"

"What do you want?

He climbed out of bed and began pacing the room. "He's the best man I've ever known. He's kind and fair and he wouldn't take advantage of me. Of anyone. And when I'm around him I want to please him. He takes care of you, doesn’t he, Bucky?"

Bucky took another swig from his flask; his hands were shaking. "We take care of each other."

"Yeah." Howard felt so tired. "You all do. You, Steve, Peggy, and the Commandos, you take care of one another. Protect—I wanted that, I guess." He walked over and leaned his forehead against the window. Was Cap watching? "I thought I belonged to him. I thought I was his. And I know it's sick! I know I shouldn't want that. I shouldn’t want to be his, I shouldn’t want to give in to him."

But he did. He wanted it with every cell in his body. God, oh, God!

Bucky got up and walked over to him, touched his shoulder.

He couldn’t fight the tears anymore, so he let them fall. "I messed up. I don't know what I did, but I messed up. And I have to fix it, I have to make it right. I have to tell him I'm sorry so he'll take me back. He has to take me back because if he doesn’t, Phillips will send me home. "

"Maybe you should go home, Howard. Maybe that's where you need to be, with your family."

Howard let out a pained laugh. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"They might be able to get you help—"

"When I was five," he said closing his eyes, "I accidently broke a piece of equipment my father was working on. Do you know what he did? He broke my nose. When I was eight, he kicked me in the ribs so hard that he broke three of them. When I was eleven, he broke my wrist and at twelve he beat me so hard, I was in the hospital for two weeks. Is that the sort of help you think I should get, Bucky? Because that's the only kind my dad knows how to give!"

Only now it would be worse, his dad would grind him down until there was nothing left of him. Grind him down until all he could do was obey. Just obey.

"He'll take away Stark Industries. He'll take away everything I love and everything that I am and he'll make me the perfect son. And I'll fight, I'll fight, but for how long? How long can I fight before it's too much? A week? A month? A year? Once he has me, he'll have all the time in the world, won't he?"

God, God, no wonder they wouldn’t let him have anything sharp. He couldn't live that like. He wouldn't! 

"Whatever you're thinking, Howard, stop!" Bucky put an arm around him and led him back to bed. "You're a fighter, so don't giving up now."

"I'm just so tired," he said.

"I know. Just… hold on for a bit longer, okay? Just a bit longer."

He nodded and pressed his face into his pillow. And if he cried, Bucky didn't comment on it. 

*****

Howard huddled under the covers and tried to fall asleep. It had been a week since he broke down in front of Bucky and his mood hadn't improved. No one had come to see him in that time, except the guard who brought him food. Maybe it was for the best, he couldn't seem to get a hold of himself when he was around other people. It was humiliating. 

He rubbed his mouth and wondered if he should try reading again; maybe it would take his mind off everything. But no, he couldn't find the energy to move.

There was a knock on the door and Howard wondered why Peggy would come to visit him again. Another interrogation, perhaps? He didn't respond to the knock, and after a few moments the door opened anyway.

Cap shuffled into the room, looking sheepish, and absolutely beautiful. There was a bruise on his jaw and he looked a bit tired. "Hey, Howard."

"Cap," he said, his voice thick with tears as hope reared its ugly head. He pushed aside the blankets and sat up. *Cap.*

"You don't look so good." Cap frowned and moved closer to sit on the bed. "You've lost weight." 

"I'm sorry." He grabbed the sheets and got to his knees. He wanted to crawl over to Cap and… and what? He wasn't his anymore. He didn't belong to Cap. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you. I'll do whatever you want. Just please, *please* take me back."

"Howard," Cap said, "stop."

He stared down the blankets and said, despairingly, "I love you." 

Cap swallowed hard and reached over to lay a hand on Howard's shoulder. "I know."

"Is that why you don't want me anymore?" Peggy was Cap's girl. Why would he want Howard?

"No, that's not why. You're not mine because you belong to yourself." 

"No, I'm not!" He wasn't, he had never been, that was why people always hurt him. "I don't want to be. I want to be yours."

"But you're not, I'm sorry." Steve brushed his hands over Howard's cheeks. "Please, stop crying."

"Sorry," he whispered.

"It's not your fault. It's Schmidt's fault. I'm gonna to find him, Howard. And I promise, I'm gonna make him pay." Cap took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Our doctors have been working with Zola. They think they have a… it's not a cure, but they said it'll help block the Omega Serum's impulses to your brain."

"Is that what you want?"

"It's… It's what you want. It's what—" Cap looked at the window and frowned. "You're too vulnerable like this. They wanted me to… They had questions they wanted me to ask you. Private questions."

"I'd tell you anything." Just take me back, he thought.

"I know. That's the problem. I've never been a bully, Howard. I'm not about to start now." He gently squeezed Howard's shoulder. "Ready for your medicine."

"Okay," he said; he wanted Cap to be happy with him.

*****

The problem with the counter-agent was that, along with a myriad of other side effects, it made his brain itch. Oh, he knew that wasn't precisely true, but it was the closest description he could think of to explain the feeling. It wasn't all the time, just when he was around other people, and the feeling was more intense when he was around Peggy and Bucky. And when he was around C—Rogers, the itch spread out to his skin. The doctors said it was psychosomatic. They could go to hell.

Though, he supposed he shouldn't be so harsh, if it weren't for them, he's still be in the SSR's cell waiting to see what the brass wanted to do with him. Of course, he still might have regardless, but Cap—but *Rogers* had really gone to bat for him.

In a few more months, Phillips might even let him bunk off base. Howard snorted at that thought. Right. 

With an irritated frown, he rubbed the back of his head, and walked into the commissary. Nothing looked good, but then nothing ever did, so he grabbed a cup of coffee and sat in the back of the room. 

Most people avoided him, and for that he was grateful. If the itch went on too long, it gave him a headache and he found himself thinking strange thoughts. 

He took a sip of his coffee and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. God, he was tired and the thing was, he wasn't sure if it was the counter-agent or just the past six months finally catching up with him. 

He looked up when a tray clattered onto the table and frowned at Bucky, who cheerfully pulled up a chair.

"Jesus, Howard, you look like shit." 

"With smooth lines like that no wonder you get all the girls." Bucky laughed and met his eyes; the itch intensified and Howard stared down at his coffee.

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly a good looking dame, are ya?" He began shoveling eggs into his mouth. 

"Now I'm really hurt."

"C'mon, what's wrong?" Bucky reached over and nudged Howard's arm.

What's wrong? He almost laughed. What was wrong was that the counter-agent left him feeling slow and muddled, it left him with no libido to speak of and an almost overwhelming desire to curl into bed and stay there. 

But he didn't say any of that. Instead, he shrugged, and played with the cup in his hands. "It's been a busy week."

"You should come out with me and the guys tonight."

What he meant to say was, I can't drink alcohol with the medication I'm taking, but what came out was, "Is Rogers going to be there?" He clenched his jaw, furious with himself. Goddammit, he was being pathetic!

"Naw, he and Peggy have a date. They're going dancing or something. C'mon, Howard, come out with us. A bit of wine, women, and song will cheer you up." Bucky hummed softly. "Well, wine and song. You can buy the first two rounds." 

Howard smiled and shook his head. "You're going to keep bugging me until I say yes, aren't you?"

"Probably. So you should say yes now so I'll stay out of the lab. I might break something while I'm there." 

"You break something every time you're there." He sighed. "Alright, fine." 

What could a couple of beers hurt anyway? 

*****

Howard stared into his beer and slowly blinked his eyes. He wasn't drunk, he'd only had a couple of beers, but he still felt unbearably weary. Weary and irritated by the way his brain kept itching. He shook his head and rubbed his temple. God, it had to stop, it was driving him crazy.

"You okay there, Stark," Dum Dum said. "You look like your brain is trying to make an escape." 

He smiled tightly, drained his glass, then held it up for inspection. "Fine, I'm fine. But I think I need another beer. I'll be back." 

He stumbled out of his chair, momentarily dizzy, but after a few seconds, the vertigo subsided and he hurried to the bar. He signaled to the bartender for another beer, then he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he should ask one of the guys to take him back to base. He felt queasy and he wanted to crawl into bed and sleep—if the nightmares eased up tonight, maybe he could.

"Howard, I thought that was you. What are you doing here?"

God. God, what was Rogers doing here? He was supposed to be on a date with Peggy. Howard opened his eyes, ignoring the fact that his body felt like it was vibrating, and turned to the man that appeared at his side. "Hey, Rogers, I could say the same to you. I thought you and Miss Carter were on a date tonight."

Rogers smiled and Howard found himself smiling right back. "We are, but we decided to come in, check on the guys, and have a drink before we head out. We're going dancing." He gestured across the room where Peggy, wearing a very lovely red dress, was sitting at a table.

"Ah." The bartender slid a glass of beer towards him and he took it gratefully. "Well, I should let you get back to her before someone tries to snatch her up."

"Why don't you join us?"

For a moment, Howard considered throwing his beer in Rogers' face, but he quickly reined in the sudden hurt and anger that welled up inside of him, and smirked. "I wouldn't dream of interrupting your date." 

"You're not interrupting. Peggy's the one who suggested it." Rogers put a hand on his back and gently pushed him towards the table. 

A lump rose in Howard's throat, but he allowed Rogers to maneuver him to the table. Rogers even pulled the chair out for him, like he was some dame. 

"Howard," Peggy said, smiling, obviously pleased that he was there. "I didn't expect to see you here." 

He pointed to the beer in his hand. "The guys invited me out for drinks. You know how persistent Bucky can be."

Rogers frowned. "Should you be drinking? I thought the doctors said that alcohol might negatively effect your medication."

"A few beers aren't going to hurt." And just to prove it, he took a drink. "See? I'm fine." Except for the way his skin seemed to buzz and itch, but that wasn't the alcohol's fault.

Rogers didn’t say anything but it was obvious he wasn't happy about it. Well, tough, he wasn’t the boss of Howard. Not anymore. 

Peggy touched Rogers' arm and they exchanged a look. After a moment, Rogers nodded and she smiled. "Steve and I were wondering if you'd like to go dancing with us."

Howard stared at her and blinked. "I thought you were on a date."

"We are," Rogers said, "but I'm not a very good dancer. And Peggy should really get to dance with someone who isn't going to step on her toes every other step. I remember you mentioning that you liked to dance."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before his voice came back to him. "I… I do. But… it's a date!" 

"If you don't come, I might be forced to dance with some rather unsavory men in order to get a proper dance." Peggy smiled flirtatiously. "You don't want that, do you, Howard?"

"Please, Howard." Rogers gave him a hopeful, wide-eyed look. "You'd be doing us a big favor." 

"I…" What the hell was going on?

"Wonderful. We should get going." Peggy stood up and Rogers hastily followed. "Come along, Howard." 

*****

Rogers was an abysmal dancer. Every time he and Peggy were on the dance floor, Howard winced in sympathy. So, despite the fact that he didn't know what he was doing tagging along with them on their date, he danced with Peggy as much as he felt was proper, drank the coffee—no more alcohol they both said—Rogers kept buying him, and listened to them talk when they took a breather.

It wasn’t a terrible night, but he wasn't the best companion. His head hurt and he felt an almost bone-deep weariness settle over him as the night progressed. 

He was just about ready to call it a night, when the band struck up another song and Peggy's eyes lit up.

"Oh this is my favorite song. Dance with me, Howard," she said, getting to her feet and pulling him onto the dance floor.

It was slow song and she stood closer to him than necessary. He glanced over at Rogers who was smiling at them. "What are you doing?" he asked finally.

"Dancing. Or wasn’t it obvious?" 

He caught her gaze and ignored the way the itch spiked. "You know what I mean."

She sighed and gave him a look that said she was very disappointed in him. "We're worried about you. "

"I'm fine." He felt like he was always saying that. "The medication is working and—" 

"You're not fine. You have dark circles under your eyes, you've lost weight, and you… you seem unhappy." 

"And what, you thought this would cheer me up?"

"I don't know, Howard. Not anymore. You've been avoiding us, Steve and me." She bit her bottom lip. "We're your friends and we miss you."

"I see you and Rogers every day at our morning briefing."

She stopped dancing and looked at him. "Steve, Howard. You used to call him Steve." 

Howard rubbed the side of his head. "I'm tired and I have a headache. All I want to do is go back to my room and sleep."

"All right. It's almost curfew anyway." They headed off the dance floor.

Rogers—Steve stood and looked at them curiously. "Everything all right?" 

"We should probably head back to base. We don’t want to get caught out on the streets past curfew. Again." She grinned and Steve blushed.

It was a short walk back to base, and for that Howard was grateful. He wanted this confusing night to be over. 

Once inside, Peggy pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Steve's mouth, then one to Howard's cheek. "I'll leave you two gentleman here. I want to check the news reports before I head off to bed. Good night."

They both echoed the good night, then Steve turned to him. "I'll walk you to your room." 

"Alright," he said, wondering exactly where this was going. He thought maybe Steve would give him a clue, but Steve was quiet on the walk to his room. When they reached his door, he turned to Steve awkwardly. "Well, here I am."

"Thanks for coming with us tonight, Howard." Steve said and leaned against his door.

"No problem. I can see why you needed me. You really can't dance; it's embarrassing."

"Yeah." Steve smiled, ducked his head, and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he looked up. "You think you can teach me how?"

"Me?" he said, surprised.

Steve nodded enthusiastically. "You're really good."

"Sure. I… Yeah, why not?" It just felt like he stuck his finger in a light socket every time Steve was around, but sure. "But not tonight."

"No." Steve cupped his chin and Howard fought back a surprised gasp when the itching suddenly stopped. "You still having nightmares?"

He pulled away, even though he didn't want to, or maybe especially because he didn't want to, and shrugged. "I'm told it comes with the territory." 

"I guess it doesn’t help being stuck here all day either." Steve's expression suddenly went hard. "I don't know why the Colonel is being so stubborn about letting you bunk off base." 

Howard leaned against the wall and sighed. "He's worried, that's his job." 

"You could bunk with one of us if he's so worried. I got plenty of room."

His face went hot and he closed his eyes. "I don't think that's a very good idea."

"W—oh. I don't care about that, Howard. People are always gonna talk. Bucky says there are rumors about him and me. Look, just think about it, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." He swallowed hard. "Good night, Steve."

Steve was quiet for a few moments, then he said softly, "Good night, Howard."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Peggy and Steve are confusing and Howard decides to take control of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HATE THEM! Okay, no, I don't. How can you hate Peggy and Steve? They are adorable. And Howard is a sexy beast. Sexy, sexy beast.

Howard could handle the nightmares. They were horrible, but he was able to shake off the sick fear by turning on the light and getting himself a glass of water. That was enough to remind him that he was safe, or at least as safe as he was gonna get. 

It was the other dreams that lingered, made his mouth dry and his pulse race. 

He dreamed that he stood in his room, naked, eyes lowered as he waited, the anticipation building until he gasped when the door opened. He trembled slightly and swallowed hard.

"Good," Cap said, he always said good, "you're ready for me." Then he curled his hand around the nape of Howard's neck and stroked gently.

Howard moaned softly and lifted his chin and Cap pressed warm lips against his pulse.

"My Howard." Cap sucked hard, then raked his teeth against the spot, marking him.

He curled his toes and stuttered out a breath. It felt so good to belong, it felt right in a way that nothing else ever had. "Please," he said. "Cap, please."

"Shh, it's alright. I know what you need." Cap took a step back. "Kneel."

He did, without hesitation, and Cap tangled fingers in his hair and pulled him forward, so he could rest his forehead against Cap's stomach. He knew that later, Cap would fuck him, fuck him until he was loose and wet and begging for more. He would love it; he knew he would love it. But he loved this too, this quiet contentment as he knelt before the man he loved.

Waking from those dreams, from the utter happiness he felt, was hell. It was hell because he would never have that, even if he were to stop taking his medication, he'd never have it. And he shouldn't want it, he knew he shouldn't, it was wrong.

He told himself it was wrong.

*****

He turned off the alarm clock and stared up at the ceiling. If he didn't get out of bed, he was going to be late. Again. He hated being late, he hated people who were late, but he was just so bone-weary, so utterly exhausted that the very idea of getting out of bed and interacting with people made him a little nauseated. 

But he had to, Dernier's gun kept locking after he made a few modifications and for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. The explanation was right there, just out of his reach, and maybe if it weren't for the goddamn medication he'd have it by now. It was the price he had to pay for a semi-normal life: no desire for sex and a brain that felt like it was running at half-speed. 

Howard closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to get out of bed. He had to get out of bed, eat breakfast, and get to work!

He had to.

*****

"Put up or shut up, Stark," Bucky said, smiling at him across from the table. 

Howard smirked, fought the urge to fidget—damn itching— and slid a few coins into the pile. "Alright, I'll call your bet and raise you a dime." 

Bucky narrowed his eyes, then looked down at his cards. After a moment, he threw his cards on the table. "I fold!"

The others around the table laughed and Howard pulled the pile of coins close. "Never bet against a man smarter than you, Barnes." 

"If he did that, he'd never get to play poker," Morita said.

"Fuck you!" Bucky replied cheerfully and made an obscene gesture.

"Hey, language." Steve gave them all a quelling look and Howard bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Are you okay, Howard? Would you like me to freshen your drink?"

"No, I think I've had enough seltzer for the night, thanks." He didn't bother to hide the sarcasm in his voice because he was still a little irritated that Steve wouldn't serve him alcohol. Next time, they were doing this in his room. 

"You wouldn't like it anyway, Howard." Bucky took a drink of his beer. "A guy like you ain't used to cheap swill."

"That's right, it's all fancy dinner parties with caviar and expensive champagne." Dum Dum made a motion like he was drinking tea, his pinky up in the air.

"And now here I am, drinking seltzer and playing poker with the likes of you." He sighed dramatically. "What I wouldn’t' give for a half-dressed starlet. Or even a fully dressed starlet." 

Bucky snorted. "Know a lot about that, do you, Howard?"

"Rumor was you dated Jean Harlow," Steve said.

Howard huffed softly; if he had a nickel for every time someone brought her up; he'd be richer than he was now. "One date. I went on one date." But she liked older men and then six months later she was gone.

"What was she like?" Dum Dum asked. 

He rolled his eyes, because everyone always asked that, too. "Sweet. After dinner, we went back to her place and painted our toenails and giggled over Cary Grant." And then he spent the rest of the night licking her out because he might be light in the loafers, but she was Jean Harlow and he wasn't an idiot. "Now are we going to play or should I go home?"

Dum Dum got up and stretched. "I don't know about you gents, but I'm broke. I think it's time for me to quit while I still have my hat."

Howard carefully stacked his coins, counting as he went along, as the others got up and filed out; maybe Steve would let him borrow a pillowcase.

Bucky, who was the last of them to leave, slapped Steve on the arm and smiled. "Have fun cleaning up." Then he turned to Howard. "Want me to walk you back?"

"I got it, Buck," Steve said, "Now get outta here before I make you help me with this mess." 

Bucky made face, said goodnight, and practically ran out of the room.

"He never was good at housecleaning." Steve chucked softly and stacked the extra chairs in a corner.

"You need some help?" he said, but Steve shook his head.

"Naw, I'm all right. Actually, I think I'm gonna leave it for tomorrow. I should probably get you back before curfew."

Howard looked at his watch. "Too late. "

Steve cursed softly, then blushed and looked guiltily at Howard. "Sorry. Um, do you mind staying here tonight? Phillips said if I got caught out after curfew again he'd… Well, it wasn’t very nice. You could take the bed. I don't mind sleeping on the floor." 

He stared at the stacks of coins in front of him and swallowed hard. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep with the itching in his head. Of course, he probably wouldn’t do much sleeping anyway. "I'm a restless sleeper."

Steve gently touched his shoulder. "Yeah, so's Bucky. It helps sometimes to have someone who can wake you when it gets bad."

He should say no. He knew he should say no. "I get the bed?"

"Yeah." Steve smiled. "I'll get you something to wear." 

God, he was such a damn idiot.

*****

Of course the pajamas were too big for him. He felt like a kid wearing his father's clothes, but it was better than stripping down to his underwear. He wasn't a modest man, but there were scars. He didn't like looking at them, he didn't imagine Steve would want to.

He crawled into bed and watched as Steve laid out his bedroll and prepared for sleep. He was tempted to suggest they share the bed but he didn't because he wasn’t a masochist. Steve might agree, then Howard would have to spend all night next to him.

"Is there something wrong with your head?" Steve asked, frowning.

"What—" Then he realized that he'd been rubbing his head. "No, I'm fine." 

Steve narrowed his eyes and sat on the bed. Before Howard could protest, Steve was rubbing his scalp in a searching matter.

Howard sputtered and tried to push Steve's hands away. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Stop that!"

Steve let out a huff and pressed his palms to either side of Howard's head. "What's going on, Howard?"

"Nothing!" His heart was pounding in his chest and Steve just stared down at him.

"Tell me!"

"I don't have to tell you anything." He grinned and, trying to lighten the mood, said, "You're not the boss of me. Not anymore." 

"That's not funny." Steve's voice was soft. 

"It's a little funny." But Steve was right, it wasn't. 

"You've lost weight, you've got bags under your eyes, and when you manage to make it into the lab, you don't do anything." Steve grabbed his chin. "And you hardly ever look me in the eyes, Howard."

He swallowed hard and looked into Steve's eyes. "My brain itches." 

Steve blinked. "Your—" 

"It doesn't actually itch, I know that. But it's the closest way to describe it. When I'm around other people, my brain itches."

"Have you told the doctors?" 

"Why? So they can put me on medication that's worse? Do you want me to list the side effects, Steve? Is that what you want? I'm tired all the time, Sometimes I don’t even want to get out of bed. Food nauseates me. And forget sex, I haven't been able to get it up since I started taking the damn pills! Still, it's the price for being *normal*, isn't it?" 

Steve straightened and said, hesitantly, "Howard—"

"It doesn't matter! They're not working on an antidote! What did Phillips say? Oh, yeah, 'maybe after the war, Stark!'"

"Still, you—" 

"What do you care?" He sat up and leaned back against the headboard.

"I’m your friend." Steve reached out to touch him but Howard slapped his hand away.

"If you were my friend, you would have found me sooner!" Steve paled at that and Howard felt a pang of remorse. "I didn't mean that."

"Yeah, yeah, you did. And you have every right to be mad, Howard. You're right, we should have found you sooner, just like I should have noticed something was wrong with you, and I should have said something when Phillips had you locked up. I've been a bad friend and I don't blame you for being mad."

"No," he said softly. "I'm not mad at you. I'm really not. You rescued me and you went to bat for me when anyone else would have let me rot in prison. I'm just… I'm tired and want everything to be normal. I want to be normal."

Steve quirked a small smile and gently nudged Howard's arm. "You're a genius millionaire, Howard. You've never been normal."

Howard couldn’t help himself, he smiled back. "Bucky's right, you are a punk." 

He shrugged. "So are you alright sleeping here with me? I could go bunk with one of the other guys tonight."

"I think I'll be alright." 

*****

Howard wasn’t alright. Nightmare after nightmare plagued him and he couldn't shake them. 

He couldn't, he just couldn't get away.

"Shhh, it's alright. I'm here, I'm right here," said a voice, quiet and warm, and he turned towards it, knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that it would keep him safe.

*****

There was a very muscular chest underneath his cheek and a big, rough hand under his shirt, pressed against his back. Howard frowned because that wasn’t right. He never stayed the night when his lover was male; it was too risky. 

"Mmm," said the body underneath him and the hand stroked his back; it felt good and Howard considered drifting back to sleep.

Then his brain reengaged and scrambled away.

"What—" Steve lifted his head and looked at him sleepily. "You okay, Howard? Another nightmare?"

"Why," he croaked, then swallowed hard and tried again. "Why are you here?" He gestured to the bed. 

"You kept whimpering in your sleep." Steve sat up and ran his hand through his hair. "I tried to wake you, but you're a pretty heavy sleeper. Anyway, you stopped whenever I touched you. I figured we'd both get a better night's sleep if I just slept next to you. "

Howard's face heated. "Sorry."

He yawned and shrugged. "What time is it?"

"About five thirty." 

Steve flopped back into bed and closed his eyes. "Still got a half hour. Coming back to bed?"

Howard hated Steve a little. "No, I think I'm going to take a shower."

"'M'kay. Wake me when you get out." He snored softly.

"Sure," he said, fighting the urge to curl up against Steve. No, he told himself very firmly. You're being pathetic. He's got a very lovely girl who will shoot you if you touch him. Now get your ass out of bed and take a shower.

*****

Some days were better than others. But when Howard woke up, he knew it was not one of those better days. There would be no forcing himself out of bed at midday to pretend that he was working. He couldn't bribe himself with the idea of coffee: the very thought nauseated him. 

The truth was that he didn't care. He didn't care that if he didn't get out of bed that Philips would lecture him, he didn’t care that Cap and the Commandos were leaving today and he needed to show them the new weapons his men made for them.

He just wanted to lay there in bed and sleep. The whole world could fall down around him and it wouldn’t matter. Actually, maybe it would be better if it did, then no one would bother him. 

Yes, then he wouldn't have to pretend to care.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

There was a knock on the door; he ignored it until it stopped. 

When it started up again sometime later, he opened his eyes and considered responding in some way. Then the door opened and Steve entered the room, waked over to the bed, and sat down.

"Hi, Howard," he said, and Howard curled away from him. "Don't feel like talking? That's alright, I just wanted to make sure you were okay and say goodbye."

Howard didn't say anything, not even when Steve stroked his hair as if he were a damn cat.

"Peggy will check on you in a few hours to see if you need anything. Do me a favor and take care of my girl when I'm gone." Steve sighed. "I better go, but… I… Howard, I promise you, I'm gonna catch Schmidt. I'm gonna catch him and when I do, he'll pay for what he's done to you. I'll make him pay for everything he's done."

*****

"Well, that's not a happy look," Peggy said as she sauntered into the room and leaned her hip against the worktable. "Is it not supposed to smoke and sizzle like that?"

Howard looked up from the piece of slag that was once a converter and glared. He wasn't angry with her, not a bit, but the whole situation was frustrating. It shouldn't have done that and he couldn't figure out what he'd done wrong.

She smiled at him and patted his cheek because he didn't frighten her in the slightest. "I think it's time to quit for the day, don't you agree?"

He didn't, but the last time he voiced his disagreement, she wound up dragging him out of the lab. He wasn’t quite ready to revisit that humiliation. "Sure. Let me just clean up."

She watched him move around the room, putting away tools, and setting the slag somewhere it could cool without ruining anything. "We should go dancing tonight." 

Howard looked up and frowned. "Dancing?"

"Yes, dancing. You enjoyed yourself the other night, didn't you? 

"Of course I did," he said, because he had. "But shouldn't you wait for Steve to come home? I don't think he'll be too happy to hear that his girl is going on dates with other men."

"First of all, Howard, I am nobody's *girl.*" She arched her eyebrow at him. "Secondly, Steve trusts me. And he trusts you, too. Besides, you're not going to try to steal me away from him, are you?"

"As if I could." Now if it were Steve… No, he had to stop thinking like that. He smiled at her and wiped his hands on a rag.

"Quite. Now are you going to take me dancing?"

"Hell, if you wear that pretty little red number, I'll take you to dinner, too!" 

She laughed and hugged him. "With an offer like that, how could I not?"

"Well, then you'd better get ready for our date, Miss Carter," he said in his most seductive voice; she blushed.

"Why, Mr. Stark, you are quite the charmer." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'll meet you here in an hour." 

"I'll be here with bells on." 

He cleaned up a bit, because that’s what you did when you were going to take a young lady out on the town. Then he waited for her in the lab. When she walked in, hair done up and in that red dress, he couldn’t help but smile. "You look lovely." 

She smiled coyly. "Why thank you."

He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

"Oh, yes," she said, twining her arm around his. "Let's."

He took her to the Savoy for dinner. He always liked the place; he'd stayed there a few times before the war, so they knew him. 

The made small talk about the hotel, about the places they had been to before the war, where they wanted to go afterward, then lapsed into silence as they ate.

Then Peggy looked at him and said, "I appreciate this, Howard. I needed to take my mind off things." 

He smiled back and pushed his food around his plate. "It's not easy being left behind. I can understand that."

"I wish I could be out there with Steve. I should be out there with him. " She sighed and dabbed her mouth with a napkin.

"You're doing your part. We both are. Besides, at least you're sent out on missions. I can't even walk around the block without an escort." 

Her eyes softened and she touched his hand. "It must be galling." 

"It's better than the alternative." He shrugged and ate a bit of his fish.

"Is it? Is it really?"

Howard was quiet for a moment, then he said, "Most days. Some days." 

"I hope you don't mind, but Steve told me about the side effects. Are you all right?" 

He opened his mouth to lie to her, but found that he couldn't. "No, no, I'm not. But I really can't do anything about that, can I?"

"You could stop taking your medication." She rubbed his knuckles with her thumb; he turned his hand to grasp her fingers. "I just realized, no one asked you what you wanted."

"I wasn't in any position to give an opinion on the matter," he said, harsher than he meant to. 

"But you are now." Peggy tilted her head. "What do you want?"

He wanted a lot of things, all of them impossible. "I want to finish this lovely meal and go dancing with you."

"Howard," she said softly.

"We're not having this discussion here, Peggy. We're not." He released her hand and stared down at his plate. 

"Fine. But you should have that discussion, if only with yourself."

He wasn't hungry anymore, but he forced himself to eat every bite on his plate.

The remainder of dinner went better; they stuck to inconsequential topics, then they went dancing where the music and their own breathlessness kept them from speaking. 

On the walk back to base, Peggy took his hand, her cheeks pink, her hair mussed; she looked beautiful. 

"I wish Steve could dance as well as you. I don't understand it, he has perfect balance, perfect rhythm, he can remember all the dance steps, but once the music starts, he's a disaster." 

Howard laughed and squeezed her hand. "He thinks too much."

"That's rich coming from you!"

"Dancing is entirely different from mechanical engineering. When it comes to dancing, you don't think about the steps, you let muscle memory take over. Steve doesn't do that, he's too afraid to trust his body." 

She blinked in surprise. "Why how very insightful, Mr. Stark!" 

"I can be insightful, Miss Carter." He touched his chest. "I am a genius, after all."

"Do you think you can use some of that genius to teach Steve to dance?" 

"He did ask for my help. I suppose I could find it in my heart, and my busy schedule, to try." They came to the entrance of the base and, after a furtive look around, he opened the secret panel and typed in his code. The door clicked and he opened it for her.

Neither said anything as they passed the guards, and turned the corner.

She stopped and let go of his hand. "Please do try to fit Steve into your schedule, Howard. He'd like that and so would I."

After a puzzled moment, he nodded; she sounded so serious. "I should walk you to your door."

"I think I'm going to see if there's any news about Steve. Thank you for a lovely evening."

"The pleasure was all mine."

"Oh, I doubt that," she whispered and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. "Good night, Howard."

He blinked at her. "I… yeah." He continued to stare at her until she was out of sight, then he licked his lips. 

What in the hell was that?

*****

Howard sat on his bed with his bottle of pills in his hand. He was supposed to take two daily, one at midday and another before bed. The doctors warned him against stopping, they said there could be dire consequences, but Howard knew they weren't exactly sure what might happen. 

He shook the bottle and listened to the rattle of pills. Would it be worth it to stop? To eat without feeling nauseated, to think at a normal speed, to feel happiness and desire with a clarity he hadn't felt in months; was that worth it? Was it worth it to stop the damn itching in his brain?

He'd have to fight again, fight for control of his own desires, and there would be no Steve to catch him if he fell.

Not true, a tiny part of him said, not true at all.

Alright, so maybe it wasn't true, but Steve didn't want to be what Howard needed either. God, he hated this, he hated who he'd become with the pills. He hated it worse than the fear and the acquiescence.

Maybe… He licked his lips and gripped the bottle. Maybe he'd see what would happen if he only took one dose a day. Yes. Maybe that would help.

After all, Peggy was right, this was his choice to make.

*****

Howard didn't have to wait long to find out the side effects. When he woke the next morning, he was dizzy and out of sorts in a way he hadn't been in months. He glanced at the bottle of pills on his nightstand and gritted his teeth. No, he was going to see this through. He was going to find a way to manage, a way that he chose, not someone else. 

Even if that someone else had been Steve. 

He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and got ready for the day. 

It wasn't so bad. He dealt with the dizziness by staying at his worktable. As for the grumpiness… Well, he made Friedman cry, but then, Friedman cried at the drop of a hat. 

Not bad, not bad at all. 

The second day, the itching in his head wasn’t so bad, and he bolted awake to an idea that was so brilliant, he didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. Too bad his hands shook so much he could hardly write. 

He made Friedman cry again and Connor gave him a dirty look after Howard insulted his parentage. 

The third day, oh, God, the third day he snapped at Peggy and the look she gave him actually made him flinch. He apologized to her and took her to dinner. 

It was a week before he realized that he'd stopped meeting people's eyes. But at least he stopped snapping at people. That was something. 

Of course, the dressing down Philips gave him for making Friedman cry every day for the past week almost made *Howard* want to cry. 

Fuck, he forgot how strong his emotions could be, how the fear and anxiety ate at him until he had to hide and fall apart.

Was it worth it? Was this better than the black moods and the itching brain?

He might have said no, but then he remembered the engine design he finished that morning, the one that would increase the gas mileage *and* the speed of Cap's motorcycle. 

Yeah, it was worth it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy and Steve are still confusing and they ask Howard to make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're getting there. Well, they're getting somewhere. I'm gonna try to get as much written as I can before Saturday because I'm going to be out of town for about a week and I don't know how much writing I'll get done.

Cap and the others came back a few weeks later. When he heard the commotion in the hallway, Howard abandoned the machine laid out on his worktable, and went to see what was going on. They were all an absolute mess: clothes stiff with blood, sweat, and dirt, and nursing various wounds. Still, they were all smiling and seeing Cap's smudged face, a bruise, already fading, on his jaw, made something hot bloom in Howard's belly. 

He gripped the doorjamb and fought the urge to turn away and hunch his shoulders.

—Not Cap's—

No, he wasn't and he never would be so his subconscious or id or whatever the hell it was called had better get used to it. He took a deep, calming breath, straightened his spine, and made sure to meet Cap's eyes when he was spared a glance.

Cap leaned over and whispered into Bucky's ear. Bucky looked serious for a moment, nodded, then looked at Howard and waved.

Howard nodded a hello and was slightly surprised when Cap moved towards him.

"Hi, Howard," Cap said and stood in front of him, smiling widely. "You look like you've been getting some sleep." 

"And you look like you could do with a good scrubbing." He took a discreet step back and clasped his hands behind his back. 

Cap laughed softly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, we really didn't get a chance to clean up before we caught our ride back. It's not too bad, is it?"

He wrinkled his nose, never mind the fact that he wanted to peel off Cap's uniform and rub himself all over—stop! "I would stay clear of Peggy until you get a chance to shower."

"I wish I could, but Colonel Phillips wants to debrief us before we do anything else." Cap sighed, then looked slightly guilty. "We almost had him, Howard. We… but he managed to escape. He was using people as *shields*."

"You'll get him next time," he said, gently touching Cap's arm. "How'd you get the bruise?"

"Which one?"

Howard gently brushed his fingers against the bruise on Cap's jaw. "This one."

"Oh, right." Cap blushed. "I wasn't paying attention and a HYDRA agent caught me by surprise. I… I ran into a branch."

He couldn't help himself; he laughed.

"It's not funny," Cap said, but he was grinning. "It hurt!"

"I—" Howard started, but before he could finish Colonel Phillips stepped out into the hall.

"Captain Rogers! Are you done saying hello to your boyfriend or do you need a few more minutes?"

Howard tensed, but Cap only rolled his eyes. "I'll be right there, sir."

"He's glaring, you'd better go." 

"Yeah." Cap bit his lip, thoughtfully. "I'm gonna be busy for the next couple of days, but maybe on Friday you can give me that dancing lesson you promised? Please?"

"I…" No. No, no, no, no. "Alright. I should be free after seven."

Cap grinned. "Great! I'll see you then, Howard." 

*****

"Slow, slow, quick, quick. Slow, slow, quick, quick," Howard said, watching Cap's feet as he moved.

Cap let out a huff of annoyance. "I know the steps, Howard."

"And yet you spend half the time treading on your girl's feet." 

"I feel ridiculous." Cap stopped and crossed his arms over his chest.

Alright, so Howard knew he'd have to touch Cap in order to teach him to dance. He could do this. He could. "Take off your shoes. If I'm going to dance with you I'm going to try to make this as painless as possible."

"Gee, thanks." Cap stepped out of his shoes and pushed them out of the way. 

"I've seen you dance." He took a fortifying breath, clasped Cap's left hand with his, and put his right hand on Cap's shoulder. When Cap put a hand on his back, the way he was supposed to, Howard did not gasp. "We're going to go slow."

"I'm ready." 

"Small steps first, keep your eyes on me, and…" And oh, Cap was a *soldier*. "And move when I tell you, not a moment before. Slow, slow, quick, quick." He made sure to leave several beats between steps and to make his backward movements a bit more exaggerated.

Cap seemed to be doing well at the slow pace and Howard felt him relax.

"Good, very g—" He winced as Cap stepped on his toes.

"Sorry, sorry!" Cap said, tensing all over again.

"Stop, just stop. Don't get flustered, you just stepped on my toes, it’s not fatal. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly." When Cap did, Howard smiled. "Now let's start again…" 

After a good hour and a half, they managed to get to a point where they could dance for ten minutes without Cap stepping on his toes. Howard called a halt to the lesson, because while Cap had enhanced stamina, Howard did not. Besides, he kept leaning into Cap's body.

"You're a great teacher, Howard." Cap stretched and then toed into his shoes.

"Well, I did start my own lessons when I was five." He wiped his face and neck with his handkerchief.

"That young?" 

Howard smiled. "My mother felt that a gentleman should know his way around the dance floor. My father thought it was ridiculous. What did a future engineer need with *dancing*? I think it was the only time my father lost an argument with my mother. But she was right." 

"Well, thank goodness for your mother." Cap walked over to him and adjusted Howard's tie, then brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. "Thank you for the lesson and thank you for taking care of Peggy while I was gone."

Howard flushed and shrugged. "I didn't do much. Peggy can take care of herself."

Cap rested his hands on Howard's shoulders. "She told me you two went on a date."

He tensed at that and hunched his shoulders. "We had dinner, then we went dancing. Friends do that."

"She kissed you."

Howard let out a gasp and readied himself for a blow. Engineering and taking a punch: the two things he learned from his father.

"That doesn't really seem fair, does it, Howard?"

"I didn't—" he started, in a trembling voice. "She kissed me! I—" 

Before he could finish what was going to be a very incoherent apology, Cap cupped his face and pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth. "There. Will you go to dinner with me tomorrow?"

Howard gaped at him. "You… What…" 

Cap smiled and stroked his thumbs along Howard's jaw. "Say yes, Howard."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. "Y-Yes. H-Howard."

"I'll pick you up at seven thirty."

Before Howard could respond, he was kissed again. By the time his brain decided to reengage, Cap was already gone.

What the fuck was going on?

*****

Howard spent the days leading up to Friday doing his best to avoid both Cap and Peggy. He needed time to think without either of them around so that he could figure this out. He knew he was missing something, something big, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was. 

Were they playing with him? Was it some sort of game of one-upmanship? It didn’t sound like either of them, but what else could it be? 

They were together; they were a couple. Everyone knew that once the war was over, Cap would propose to Peggy and they'd settle somewhere and start having babies. That's what normal people did when they fell in love. Hell, that's what everybody did.

Howard knew he wasn't normal, but even he'd have to fake it eventually. 

Okay, no, maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe… Maybe they both wanted him. Really? That was the best he could come up with? God, he was supposed to be a genius. 

He'd just have to bite the bullet and ask Cap. 

*****

He dressed nicely because, well, because even if it couldn’t be a date, he was still going to dinner with Cap and he wanted to look nice.

And maybe he could pretend it was a date. What was the harm in that? 

Howard checked himself one last time in the mirror, then there was a knock on the door. He swallowed hard and opened the door with shaking hands. 

Cap, dressed in his military uniform, grinned at him and held out a bottle of wine. "You look nice."

"Thank you. Um, so do you." He took it and looked at the label; he made an appreciative sound. "Good year."

"Yeah, that's what Dernier said. I thought you might like it." Cap smiled nervously. "You ready to go?"

Howard set the bottle on his bed, then nodded. "Yes, so where are we going?" 

"Peggy said you liked the Savoy, so I thought we could go there." Cap grinned. "Maybe we'll see Churchhill." 

He laughed softly. "Maybe we will. But he'll probably run the other way if he sees me." 

"Why? What did you do to him?" Cap put a hand on Howard's back and gently guided him down the hall.

"I didn't do anything. He owes me five pounds!" 

Cap shook his head and laughed. "Of course the Prime Minister owes you a fiver. President Roosevelt probably owes you money, too!" 

He looked thoughtful. "No, no, I think I owe him some money though." 

Cap laughed again and Howard flushed with pleasure. 

Dinner went exceedingly well. Cap was attentive; he laughed at all of Howard's jokes, and gave compliments freely. 

If Howard didn't know better, he might have thought that Cap was seducing him. But he did know better and he told that little voice that kept telling him otherwise to shut up. 

After dinner, Cap suggested they go back to the boarding house and listen to some records. Howard readily agreed; he didn't want to go back to base just yet, and when they were alone, he could ask about the kiss.

They were quiet on the way to Cap's and for that Howard was glad. He was nervous, so nervous his mouth was dry and his heart pounded in his chest. He reminded himself that Cap was his friend; there was no reason to be anxious.

Still, by the time they got to Cap's room, his palms were sweaty and he felt a little weak-kneed. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around.

"Howard? I've got something to confess." Cap looked at him, shamefaced.

"What?" he said, breathlessly.

"I don't have a record player." Cap put his hands on Howard's shoulders. "I just didn't want the night to end. I really like you."

"You do?" And he knew he shouldn't, but he stepped closer to Cap. "What about Peggy?"

"She really likes you, too." Cap cupped his face again and his breath stuttered out.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. And it's still the answer. I'm sure if you think about it real hard, you'll get why." His mouth brushed Howard's, then he whispered, "You like us, Howard?"

Howard's closed his eyes and moaned softly. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." 

The next kiss was longer; Cap's tongue slipping into his mouth and slowly exploring. Howard leaned into it, hands coming to rest on Cap's hips. When their mouths finally parted, Howard rested his forehead against Cap's shoulder and let out a shuddery breath.

"Please, please, tell me you're not teasing me. Tell me this isn't a game you're playing with Peggy." 

"We're not playing with you, Howard." Cap stroked the back of Howard's neck and pressed a kiss to his hair.

"Then what is it? You love Peggy; I know you do. And she loves you." He was an idiot for asking. He should just take what was offered, whatever was offered. But, God, he wanted more than one night. He wanted more than stolen nights and betrayed trusts. Didn't he deserve to be more than just someone's dirty little secret?

"Yeah, I do love her, she's my girl. But it's not that simple, not for me. I… I care about you, too, Howard. I care about you a lot and Peggy saw that. And she… she wasn't mad. She said that she loved me and she wanted me to be happy. And she knew that what I felt for you didn't mean I loved her any less."

But what did that mean? 

"Do you love me?" He clutched Cap's shirt, his body tense.

"Yes. I didn't think I was allowed to love two people at the same time, but Peggy said, why not? She cares about you and she wants us all to work it out. To be together. I want that, too." Cap hugged him tightly. "She's my girl, Howard. And I want you to be my guy."

—Cap's guy, Cap's—

He fought back the immediate affirmative. He fought back the swell of need, that part of him that wanted nothing more than to kneel at Cap's feet and belong—

—his hishishishishis—

"The three of us," he choked out. "What if I say no?" He didn’t want to say no. Why should he? He liked Peggy, respected her even, and he'd slept with far less admirable women just to keep his reputation from souring.

"Then we try to figure out another way. If there's another way." But Cap didn’t sound so sure.

"I need to think about it," he said, and it was the hardest thing he ever had to say.

"Of course. Howard, take all the time you need." Cap stroked Howard's back. "We're not going anywhere. I promise."

He took a deep breath, then pulled away slightly. "One last kiss before you take me home?"

Cap smiled, his cheeks flushing. "Yeah. Oh, yeah." 

*****

Howard told Bucky, "I just came into possession of a bottle of ten year old scotch. Are you interested?"

He was interested; of course he was interested. And soon they were ensconced in Howard's room, sipping the scotch; Bucky kept eyeing Howard suspiciously because he wasn't stupid. 

Howard cleared his throat. "So, you've known Cap for a long time."

"Yeah," Bucky said slowly, "since we were kids. We met at the orphanage."

"So was he always like... like this?" He waved his hand.

"Like what?"

Howard bit his lip. "Earnest."

Bucky laughed. "Yeah, you could say that. He plays it up a lot, though. Gets people to underestimate him. He can be underhanded when he wants to be. Why?"

Howards shrugged and poured himself another drink. "He just seems too good to be true sometimes." 

Bucky snorted and gestured to Howard to top him off. "It's those eyes of his, all wide-eyed and blue. He got into his fair share of trouble."

"Cap?" he said, in disbelief.

"Most of it was just kid stuff: sneaking into movies, accidentally breaking windows when we played stickball, being the lookout when I stole penny-candy." Bucky shrugged. "He was a sick kid, slow, and sometimes he got caught. He never squealed on me, though. And he always managed to talk himself out of trouble." 

"The first time I met him, I thought, there's no way this guy is going to survive the experiment."

"He's tougher than he looks. Looked." Bucky shook his head. "Sometimes it's hard to believe it's really him under all that muscle. He's a good guy, Howard. He's honest and brave and you can count on him to do what's right. But he's no sucker. So what's with the third degree?"

Howard shrugged and stared into his glass. "I thought I knew him, but he threw me for a loop recently."

Bucky laughed softly. "What'd he do now?"

"It's personal," he said quickly.

"Did he hit on you?" 

"Don't be ridiculous. He isn't like that." Howard knocked back his drink and closed his eyes against the burn.

"I'm his best friend, Howard. I know exactly what he's like." 

"Are we here to talk or drink?" He opened his eyes and poured himself a few more fingers of scotch.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "We can't do both?"

"No."

"Okay." He held out his glass. "Then don't be stingy." 

*****

"We should talk," Howard said, laying a hand on Peggy's arm to distract her from her paperwork. 

She tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully before nodding. "Alright. Now?"

"Yes." He took a step back and followed her to her room. Technically men were supposed to stay clear of the women's barracks, but no one paid attention to that rule. Although they were generally more circumspect about breaking it. 

She locked the door to her room behind them, then sat on the bed, hands in her lap, looking prim and proper. "I'm a little surprised it took you this long to come see me." 

"Cap told you what happened. What…" He swallowed hard and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Yes, Howard, *Steve* told me." She sighed and patted the space next to her. "Please, sit down, you're making me nervous." 

He didn’t sit next to her. Instead he pulled out a chair from her desk and sat down. "It doesn't bother you? That he wants… wants to… sleep with me."

"Is that how he put it?" Peggy frowned. "That man! He told me that he loved you. That he loved us both."

"And that doesn't bother you?" He voice cracked and he clenched his hands.

—Cap's girl, Cap's girl, Cap's girl—

God, shut up, he wanted to say. Shut up!

"I have to be honest, Howard, it did at first. But then I thought about it, really thought about. I thought about how he reacted when Schmidt kidnapped you, about how angry he was that you were hurt and still hurting and he hadn't even noticed. And then I asked myself if what he felt for you diminished what he felt for me. I realized that it didn't." She took a deep breath and let it out. "I don't love you, Howard. But I care about you. I think you're a good man and that you could be good for Steve."

"B-But what if I'm not?" He was not going to break down. 

"You are, but even if you're not, he'll be good for you." Peggy got to her feet, walked over to him, and touched his face. "This is your choice. We don't want you to be uncomfortable. We don’t have to have sex, you and I."

"Would you want to?" Howard didn't understand her at all.

"You're a handsome man and Steve doesn't mind." She flushed. "I asked. Would you like to have sex with me?"

"I… I don't know. You're beautiful but I don’t—Cap and I are still… It's confusing."

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You and I will take it slow. And I'll stay clear of your time with Steve until you say otherwise. How does that sound?"

"You really don't mind?" he asked, because he wanted Cap. Oh, he wanted Cap so much.

"I really don't mind." She smiled. "As a matter of fact, I think you need him a bit more than I do. Don't you, Howard?"

He flushed, but didn't say anything.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard's relationships move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next week is filled with travel so the next bit will be a longer time coming.

Howard hung back after the morning debriefing, pretending to organize the files in front of him, while Cap spoke with Phillips. When Phillips finally left, giving Howard an annoyed glance, Howard got up and walked over to Cap. "I still have that bottle of wine you brought me the other night. Would you like to come over this evening and try it?"

Cap smiled and his ears turned red. "I don't know much about wine, but I'd like that."

"Good, I'll see you then." He turned to go, but Cap grabbed him by the sleeve.

"You're looking… better these days. You've been sleeping alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I…" Howard took a deep breath; now was the time to tell Cap he'd cut down to one pill a day. "I guess I've finally gotten used to the medication." 

"What about the itching in your brain?" Cap released Howard's sleeve and playfully tapped his temple.

"Almost gone." It was just a slight niggle every once in awhile; like when he looked too long into Cap's eyes.

"I'm glad." Cap ran his knuckles along Howard's jaw, then brushed his thumb against Howard's bottom lip.

Howard shuddered and took a step closer to Cap. "I wish I didn't have so much to do today."

"Yeah? Why's that?" 

"I'd take you to my room now," he said softly and watched Cap's eyes darken with arousal.

"I wish we could," Cap replied, his voice husky, then shook his head and took a step back. "I'll see you tonight."

Howard nodded, then gathered up his files, giving his body time to calm down before braving the halls. 

*****

He wasn't sure what Cap had in mind, so he planned for every contingency. He didn’t want there to be any obstacles if they decided to go all the way tonight. God, he hoped Cap wanted to go all the way. 

He shivered and pressed the heel of his hand to his erection. Calm down, he told himself, Cap's a nice guy. He'll probably just want to kiss. 

But he stripped to his shirtsleeves and lost his tie. 

Then he sat and waited, picking nervously at a loose thread on his pants—a loose thread! God, he was turning into a barbarian. 

When there was a knock at the door, he stopped himself from jumping up and rushing to it. Instead, he took a deep breath, got to his feet, and walked at a leisurely pace to the door and opened it.

Cap smiled at him, soft and shy, and something in Howard twisted. He smiled back and ducked his head, feeling shy himself. 

"Hey, Howard," Cap said. "You look nice."

"So do you." His voice was a little hoarse. "Come on in. I wasn't sure when you'd drop by, so I didn't open the wine. But it needs to breathe. "

"Okay. In the meantime, we can dance." Cap pressed a hand to the small of Howard's back. "I've been practicing." 

"Put on some music, then." He gestured to the record player and went to open the bottle of wine. 

A few moments later, Glenn Miller was playing softly in the background and the wine was breathing. Cap, who had kicked off his shoes, held out a hand. Howard smiled and took it.

Cap pulled him close, closer than was proper, but then those rules generally didn't apply when it came to two men, and they danced slowly around the room.

"You *have* been practicing," he said, surprised.

"I wanted to be able to dance with my guy without stepping on his toes."

Oh, that shouldn't have delighted him as much as it did. But he couldn't deny that he liked being called Cap's guy and would probably have liked it before Zola's serum. 

"Yeah." He rested his head on Cap's shoulder and closed his eyes, just enjoying himself.

"You're wonderful," Cap said, sliding his hand down to the small of Howard's back and rubbing there. "I wanna kiss you."

Howard lifted his head. "So what are you waiting for?"

Cap smiled and lowered his mouth to Howard. It started with just a brush of their lips, but Cap quickly deepened it

He moaned, opening his mouth to it, arching into Cap's body, eager for more.

Cap slid a hand up his back, gripped a handful of his hair, and tilted his head back. A thrill ran through him, as Cap abandoned his mouth to lick and kiss the vulnerable skin of his neck.

He shuddered, whimpering softly. Oh, oh, yes. That was… he wanted more of that. He wanted to feel Cap's teeth scrape against his skin, dangerous and exciting. "You can… You can bite," he said, his voice thick with arousal. And when Cap did, when Cap bit hard enough to bruise, Howard wailed and jerked against him.

—his, his, *God*, Howard was his now—

"Please. Please, please, please!" He clawed at Cap's shirt, then his own.

"Easy, easy, Howard." Cap pulled away and his face was flushed and he looked as broken and needy as Howard felt. He stripped off to the waist, and Howard drank in the sight of him. "Your turn."

Howard unbuttoned his shirt and let it drop to the floor. Then he gripped the hem of his undershirt and stopped. He couldn't. Cap was perfect and Howard… Howard had *scars*. And he knew Cap had seen them already, but not like this. Not when they were about to—

"You don't have to," Cap said softly. "If you're not comfortable."

He nodded and swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. 

Cap smiled reassuringly and stroked his face. Then he gripped Howard by the upper arms and eased him down on the bed before climbing in beside him.

"I love you," Cap said, and ran a hand up Howard's chest, stroking his nipples through the fabric.

"Me, too," he replied hoarsely. "I—"

But Cap kissed him before he could finish, kissed him and touched him and rocked against him.

Howard moaned, running his hands over the smooth, hot skin of Cap's shoulders and back. He hooked a leg around Cap's waist and arched up. "Please, please. I… I want…" He blushed suddenly.

"What? What do you want? Anything you want." Cap kissed him sloppily and groaned into his mouth.

"C-Come on me," he said, squirming with embarrassment, his cock jerking in his pants.

"Yeah." Cap panted and undid his trousers. "Lift your shirt a little." 

Howard did, then watched, hungrily, as Cap drew himself out and jerked off. Next time, next time he would have that inside him. In his mouth or ass, fucking him, using him. He whined softly at the thought, wrapped a hand around Cap's, and begged, "On me, please, On me!"

Cap's breath stuttered and he gave a sharp cry as he came all over Howard's skin.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Howard was so close. He writhed and bit his bottom lip hard enough to taste blood. "Touch me, please!"

And Cap did, but not the way Howard expected him to. He ran his hand through the come on Howard's stomach, rubbing it into his skin, then sliding up under Howard's shirt to smear it there too. 

And Howard—Cap was marking him. Marking Howard—Howard came, giving a choked groan. Cap didn’t stop stroking him, until he slumped on the bed with a dazed look in his eyes. 

Then Cap pulled him close and kissed him. "You think the wine's breathed enough?"

Howard blinked at him for a moment, then began to laugh.

*****

"We're going on holiday," Peggy said, tugging the screwdriver from his hand.

"Have fun?" Howard picked up a wrench and ignored the jealousy that twisted inside of him. He reminded himself that there were a billion reasons why Cap probably hadn't mentioned it. First of all, he probably wasn't invited, and even if he had been, Phillips wouldn't let him go. And, anyway, he was busy. He was trying to find a way to reconstruct Schmidt's plane so they didn't *need* that new energy source and it wasn't coming along at all because his brain was still working at half-speed. And—

Peggy smacked him on the forehead. "You're not paying attention to me at all, are you?" 

He blinked at her and rubbed his forehead. "What?"

She sighed and took the wrench from his hand too. "I said, pack a bag. We'll be gone for three days."

"Three—" He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then swallowed hard. "How did you get Phillips to agree to let me come with you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Everyone deserves a holiday, Howard, even you. Steve made it perfectly clear that if you weren't allowed to come, he'd let his friend the senator know how unhappy he was with Phillip's leadership. You're not going to decline to come, are you?" 

Howard shook his head. "No." 

Peggy smiled and pressed a kiss to his nose. "Brilliant. Be packed and ready to go in two hours." 

"Two hours?! You're a menace," he said, as she walked out and she made a rude gesture at him.

*****

"There's indoor plumbing in this place, right?" Howard asked. "I'm not going to have to piss in a hole or carry buckets of water up a flight of stairs in order to have a hot bath. Oh, God, is there electricity? Because if there isn't—"

Cap laughed and Peggy glared at him. "Keep it up, Stark, and I'll gut you." 

"I'm concerned. I'm allowed to be concerned. I mean, look at that. Look!" He gestured out of the car window at all the green and trees and *nature* they were passing through. "We're in the middle of nowhere. Am I going to have to sleep in a tent? On the floor? Oh, God, I'm going to have to sleep on the ground, aren't I? I'll be eaten alive by English wildlife: bunnies or foxes or something."

Cap just laughed louder.

"I hate you both," Peggy declared.

*****

Howard had been joking, mostly, but he was glad when they drove up to a very quaint cottage in the middle of a village. It's not as if he hadn't slept in a tent before, or on the floor, he just didn't find it soothing. If he was going to have a weekend away, he'd rather have a bed and modern conveniences. 

Which, thank God, the cottage had.

"So whose place is this?" he asked, dropping his suitcase in the hallway.

"Lord Falsworth's," Peggy replied.

"That's right, he's a peer of the realm. Hmm, I've always wanted to be called lord. Do you think I could—" 

"No. Absolutely not." She smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

Howard sighed and watched as Cap came in, carrying both his and Peggy's suitcases. "Need some help there, pal?"

Cap smiled at him and Howard flushed. "I've got it. I can take your suitcase, too, if you'd like."

He considered it, but after a moment picked up his own suitcase. "That's all right. Lead the way." He followed Cap down the hallway until they came to the bedrooms. The bigger of the two had a bed you could hold an orgy in.

Cap hesitated for a moment, then said, "You could take the bedroom across the hall, but Peggy and I would like it if you stayed with us."

Howard hesitated for a moment. He'd been on dates with both of them, both separately and together, but he wasn't sure if he was ready for this. He and Peggy hadn't done more than kiss.

"You don't have to, Howard. Not if you're uncomfortable."

"I think I'm going to stay in the other bedroom for tonight." He gripped the handle of the suitcase until his hand ached.

"Okay." Cap smiled at him, just as easy and bright as always and Howard relaxed.

They both turned when Peggy came into the room and cleared her throat. "The pantry and ice box are fully stocked. I hope one of you knows how to cook." 

*****

Thank goodness for Cap or they might have starved, Howard thought as he stretched out on the settee to watch them dance together. They were a beautiful couple; he couldn't deny that. They were beautiful and perfect and he wasn't sure what he was doing here with them. Why they wanted him. 

Cap said it was because he loved Howard, but it was never that simple. Was it guilt? Lust? Was it his money—No, what was he saying? God, of course Cap didn't care about the money and Peggy's family had enough of their own. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"That was a pretty heavy sigh, Howard," Cap said, exchanging a glance with Peggy.

"Too heavy." She pulled away from Cap and walked over to Howard, offering him a hand up. "This is a holiday. No brooding allowed."

"Is that so?" He grabbed her hand and pulled himself up. 

She smiled, put her arms around him, and began to sway to the music. After a moment, Cap came up behind him and did the same, so that he was sandwiched between them. 

It was strange and comforting; he relaxed into it, closing his eyes. "I don't know what you want from me," he said softly.

"To love you," Cap said.

Peggy kissed him on the mouth. "To be happy with you."

"That's all?" His voice trembled softly.

"Yes," she said. "That's all. Come to bed with us, Howard, Please. You don't have to stay the night. You don't have to do anything. You can watch us. Just watch us." 

"Please," Cap whispered in his ear, then kissed his neck. "Let us show you how it could be."

Howard shouldn't, he knew he shouldn't, but it felt so good between them: warm and safe. "I can just watch?"

"Yes." Peggy stepped back and Howard opened his eyes to look at her. "And whenever you feel as if you've had enough, you can leave. We promise, we won't be upset."

"We want you to feel safe." Cap hugged him.

He took a deep breath. "Alright."

*****

Howard stripped down to his underclothes and settled on the bed to watch them. He'd never done this before, never felt the desire to be a voyeur. He preferred to be in the thick of things but he couldn't deny there was some appeal to sitting back and enjoying the proceedings.

He watched them undress one another, exposing themselves, bit by bit, their bodies angled just so to give him the best view.

They were beautiful together: smooth, flushed skin over muscular bodies, lush red mouths meeting again and again, the sounds of their pleasure, desperate and hungry, filling the air.

But they were more than bodies and sounds, they were Cap and Peggy—no, they were equals. They were Steve and Peggy and they loved one another, were loving one another, with hands and mouths and whispered words. 

Glances.

Then tumbled into bed, laughing softly, their bodies nudged his leg. Steve pinned Peggy to the bed, then looked up at Howard and grinned. Howard grinned back, then let out a soft gasp as Steve reached over and curved one hand around Howard's calf. Steve stroked a thumb against Howard's skin as he leaned down and kissed Peggy.

So beautiful. 

Howard pressed a hand against his erection and moaned softly. Steve kissed down Peggy's throat, sucking a bruise on her pale skin. She arched her neck, gripped Steve's hair, and made a soft greedy sound.

Oh. Howard's breath stuttered out and he rocked his hand, toes curling with pleasure.

Steve pressed a kiss to her collarbone, then moved lower to nuzzle her breasts, laving and biting her nipples. "She loves that," he murmurs, squeezing Howard's calf. "She loves it when I play with her nipples, when I bite them."

"Yes, Steve," she moaned, tugging at his hair. "Bite harder."

And Steve did; she let out a sharp cry. Howard let out a strangled moan and Steve looked up. "No, Howard. Don't touch yourself. Watch."

Howard considered disobeying, but Steve's eyes were dark and his fingers dug into Howard's leg painfully.

"Watch," Steve said again, sliding lower and burying his face between Peggy's legs. 

She arched, giving another cry, her hands clawing at the sheet, her face flushed with pleasure.

Steve lifted his head; his mouth and chin were wet with her. "She loves that too."

"God, you bastard," she panted. "Will you just fuck me?" 

The words ran through Howard like a lightning bolt; if Steve didn't fuck her, he would.

Steve laughed, gave her another messy lick, then slithered up her body. He kissed her, hard, then looked up at Howard. "Come here."

Howard did, and Steve wrapped a hand around his neck and kissed him, slow and easy, as if they had all the time in the world. When Steve released Howard, he felt back on the bed, panting, his cock throbbing painfully.

He heard them both moan and when he looked over at them again, they were moving against each other.

Howard—God, he was tired of watching—turned and pressed a kiss to Peggy's mouth. She parted her lips and pressed her tongue into his mouth, so he cupped her breast and pinched a nipple to make her cry out.

She moaned and gasped into his mouth and he loved it, he loved the way her pleasure reverberated through him. He might have gone on kissing her forever, but Steve said his name, groaned his name. And so Howard lifted his head and kissed Steve's red, moaning mouth. 

God, God, God, he wanted this forever. He wanted *them* forever.

But Peggy gave a strangled cry and Steve, Howard could feel Steve tense, then he was groaning, deep and almost pained into Howard's mouth. And… oh, oh, they were coming Howard pulled away to watch and it was as perfect as everything else. 

After a moment, Steve pulled out and flopped back on the bed, panting. They were both sated, but Howard, he was still hungry. He still wanted so much.

Peggy reached over and stroked his arm. "What do you need, love?"

Everything, he wanted to say, but as he looked down her flushed body, he realized what he wanted right that instant. He reached out and stroked her thigh. "Let me taste you?"

A wicked smile curved her lips and she stroked his hair. "Oh, yes." 

She parted her thighs and he, oh, he reminded himself to be gentle. Steve had just fucked her and she would be sore. He settled between her thighs and lapped at her, moaning softly as he tasted both of them.

He lapped and licked and curled his tongue, flicked it against her clit, urging her towards pleasure. And he could feel when her body caught up with him, growing wetter, opening to his tongue. She ground herself against him and moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair. As she got closer, he teased her clit, making her hips jerk.

"Fuck," she said. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Her thighs closed around his head and she pressed against him, coming undone. 

He continued licking her until she tugged his head and told him no more. He lifted his head, wiped his mouth and chin, and smiled at her.

She smiled back, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "Your turn," she said. 

And Steve—Cap—Steve pounced on him, shoving him flat on his back. He could feel Steve's erection against his belly. "I want you," Steve said. "I want to be inside of you. Let me?"

Howard nodded because how could he not want that. He'd been aching for it for the better part of a year.

Steve pulled Howard's underwear down and off, then divested him of his shirt. He flushed and fought not to hide his scars. Steve just smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth. "I love you, Howard." 

"Fuck me," he said. "I'm ready, I don't need—Please, just do it." 

Steve nodded and turned to Peggy, who reached into the nightstand, pulled out a bottle of oil, and handed it to Steve.

Howard spread his legs and took deep, calming breaths. 

Peggy smiled at him and leaned down to whisper in his ear. "You're going to be wet with him, Howard. Wet and loose and completely his."

He gasped at those words, then gasped even louder as Steve pushed two big fingers into him. He closed his eyes against the sweet burn of them, the fullness that was only the beginning. "Please," he said. "Cap—Steve, please!" He was ready, why couldn't Steve understand that?

"Shh," Steve said, gently opening Howard with fingers, fucking him with them, twisting them, *teasing* him.

Howard moved against him, panting, and when Peggy kissed him, he whined against her mouth. Please, he wanted to say, just do it.

But Steve took his time and it was such sweet agony.

"Peggy," he choked out, finally, "Peggy, please." Because maybe she could convince him to just fuck Howard. 

"It's alright, love. Everything is alright." She stroked his face as he writhed on Steve's fingers, his cock jerking and dripping all over his belly. 

If Steve didn’t hurry, he was going to come like that, just like that, with fingers in him instead of a cock.

"Alright, Howard, all right." Steve pulled out his fingers and before Howard could protest the emptiness, Steve replaced them with his cock.

Howard arched into it, whimpering as he was stretched and filled. Oh, oh, yes. "Steve. *Steve*. Now?"

"Yes," Steve said and fucked him, hard and fast and exactly how Howard wanted it.

Peggy laughed and kissed him; he opened his eyes to look at her. "B-Beautiful."

"Shut up," she said, "Enjoy." 

So he did because Steve was taking him, owning him, and Peggy was touching his face and hair and kissing him. And he loved them, he loved them both and he could tell by Peggy's eyes that she was coming to the same realization. Then Steve leaned down and bit his neck and all coherent thought was gone.

There was heat and fullness and pleasure and Steve, Steve, Peggy, Steve… And he was coming hard, clenching around Steve's cock, wailing as white-hot pleasure rolled over him.

When he finally came back to his senses, he was trembling, and they were pressing soft kisses to the scars on his chest and thighs. He grumbled and closed his eyes. 

"Go to sleep," Steve said, and so he did.

*****

Howard woke to someone carding their fingers through his hair. He sighed and enjoyed the soothing the feeling of it as he cataloged the aches of his body; the very pleasant aches.

"Wake up, sleepy," Peggy said. "Steve is making us breakfast."

He opened his eyes, rolled over on to his back, and stretched. "Mmm, I'm awake."

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his mouth; he hummed and deepened it. After a moment, she pulled away and brushed his bottom lip with her thumb. "How do you feel?"

"Good," he said, "Very good. What about you?"

Peggy tilted her head and looked down at him thoughtfully. "I feel happy."

He smiled, strangely pleased by that admission. 

"Oh, go on!" She nudged his shoulder and stood up. "Get dressed. Steve refuses to eat naked; he says it's indecent."

Howard rolled his eyes and sat up. "We'll have to work on that."

"Yes." She slipped into a pair of panties and pulled on Cap's pajama top; it fell to mid-thigh on her. "Do you want me to get you a glass of water?"

He blinked. "For?"

"Your first pill of the day." Peggy gave him a very pointed look and he clenched his jaw.

"Don't pretend you don't know," he said.

"Alright." She sat on the bed. "I won't. You'll have to tell him. He has a right to know."

"I know that." He swallowed hard. "It's just that it's been going so well and… I don't want to ruin that."

"He loves you, Howard. It won't matter—"

"Of course it matters!" he ground out. "He didn't want me when I was like that! Why would he? Why would he want a weak, ineffectual slave?"

"You weren't weak or ineffectual. You could never be either of those things. And you weren’t a slave either." She reached out and took his hand.

"He won't want me."

"He'll always want you." She squeezed his hand. "And so will I. You and I will convince Steve that whatever choice you make, you can still be an equal in our relationship."

Howard nodded but he was still unconvinced.

"It'll be alright. I promise, love." Peggy pressed a kiss to his temple. "I'm on your side. So is Steve. Give us a chance to prove it." 

"Okay. I—"

The door opened and Cap stuck his head into the room. "Are you two going to stay in bed all day?"

Peggy smiled and got to her feet. "Of course not. Is breakfast ready?"

"Yup." Cap beamed at both of them. "So you better hurry or it'll get cold."

"We'll be right there," Howard said. "Let me just pull on some clothes."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, God, I hope to have this done by the end of the week. *crosses fingers*

"Good lord, Howard, could you look any more uncomfortable?" Peggy asked, sprawled back on the blanket, eating a small hunk of cheese. "Surely you've been on a picnic before?"

Howard made a face at her. "Does a garden party count?"

"Depends," Steve said. "Were you wearing a jacket and tie?" 

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. I have never been on a picnic."

Steve grinned and pushed him down on the blanket. Then Steve leaned down and kissed him, slow and gentle. Howard moaned softly, kissing back though he knew they shouldn't. Anyone could come by and see them. 

When Steve pulled back, finally, Howard was panting and painfully hard. Steve cupped his jaw. "Take off the jacket and tie, Howard."

"Sir, yes, sir," he said softly.

"That's what I like to hear, soldier." Steve patted his chest then stretched out with his head in Peggy's lap.

Peggy shook her head and popped a bit of cheese into Steve's mouth. "The two of you are giving me a toothache." 

"Aww, we love you, too, Peggy. Don't we, Howard?"

Howard took off his tie and his jacket and slid over to sit next to Peggy. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then the curve of her neck. "Yes."

She flushed slightly and fed Howard some cheese. "Incorrigible man," she told him.

"Menace," he said, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Steve's hair. "You're both menaces." 

Peggy laid her hand next to Howard's so they were both touching Steve's hair. "You wouldn’t have it any other way."

He was amazed to realize that he wouldn't. 

*****

The first time Howard fell in love, he was twelve years old. He was hiding in the coatroom of his childhood home, trying on trench coats and furs, riflling through pockets for nickels and dimes, when Obadiah Stane ducked into the room.

"Who the fuck are you?" Obadiah said, hiding a bottle behind his back.

Howard shoved the change he'd found into his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look older or at least more authoritative. "Howard Stark. Who are you?"

"Obadiah Stane." He tilted his head, then grinned. He held out the bottle he'd been hiding. "You like champagne?"

They got drunk that night. Gloriously drunk. Howard felt like he was flying, he felt like he was free. It was just the two of them in that room, curled up on a pile coats, heads together, giggling. Howard had never had any close friends; he was too smart, too awkward to be popular. So it was nice to have another boy to talk to, someone who understood what it was like to be the only child at a dinner party. 

They made fun of the adults, they made fun of their parents, and they drank until Howard was sure he was going to be sick to his stomach. Then Obi looked at him, a strangely serious look, and the laughter died away. Howard's heart pounded in his chest and his hands grew clammy. 

Obi kissed him, warm and hesitant and clumsy in all the ways a first kiss was clumsy. 

It was perfect. And there was nothing, absolutely nothing that could take that feeling away from him.

*****

It was raining and Howard was bored. He supposed he could take a nap, like Peggy, or read a book, like Steve, but to be honest, he wanted a screwdriver in his hand. He wanted to take something apart then put it back together again. God, maybe he should have brought a project with him, or tried to at least. He wasn't sure that Phillips would let him take any of the projects off base. Phillips still thought that Howard was one command away from giving all their secrets to HYDRA. 

Fuck, and there was that, wasn't there? They were going to head back to base tomorrow afternoon and he still hadn't told Steve about his medication. Steve had a right to know, of course he did, and Peggy kept looking askance of Howard. 

How the hell was Howard supposed to broach the subject? And what if Steve broke it off with Howard when he found out? 

Now that he had the both of them, he wasn't sure he'd be able to survive without them. He wasn't sure he *wanted* to survive without them. He'd only ever had one serious lover in his life and that hadn't gone well. Not that he begrudged Obadiah his marriage. Well, he didn't begrudge it very much. 

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Howard paced the hallway, muttering under his breath.

"Howard," Steve said, poking his head out of the library, "if you keep thinking so loud, you're gonna wake Peggy. And she's a bear if you wake her before she's ready. Come in here." 

He obeyed, not because—Well, because Steve was right, Peggy would probably shoot him if he woke her up. He sat next to Steve on the divan and tried not to fidget as Steve read. He wasn't doing a very good job because Steve sighed and put down his book.

"What's wrong?"

Howard blinked and swallowed hard. "What?"

Steve frowned at him and touched his arm. "What's wrong, Howard?"

And this was the time. Howard knew it was the time to lay it all out because if he didn't, he might never, and then Peggy really *would* shoot him. "I'm unhappy," he said.

Steve pulled his hand away and his face went completely blank. "Oh."

Oh? What did—Oh! He reached over and grabbed Steve's hand. "No, Steve. No! Not with you and Peggy. I could never be unhappy with the two of you."

"Then what is it, Howard?" Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Is it Phillips? I'll talk to him again if you want. I know—"

"No, Steve it's not… it's not…" Howard stopped and gathered his thoughts. And *God* he hated that he had to do that. He hated that they didn't just organize themselves automatically. "What do you think will happen after the war?"

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, frowning again.

"I mean, what do you hope will happen after all this is over? When you imagine your life, what do you see?" Do you see me, he didn't ask. Am I there?

Steve ducked his head and flushed. "I guess, I see us all in New York: you, me, Peggy, and Bucky. You'd go back to Stark Industries and I thought maybe I'd go to art school. Me and Peggy, we'll get married and… and we'd live with you."

For a moment, Howard couldn't speak. He cleared his throat. "Live with me?"

"Yeah." Steve brought Howard's hand to his lips and kissed it. "I thought we could have a couple of kids. And… Oh, don’t look at me like that, Howard."

"How am I looking at you?" he asked, because honestly, marriage and kids and *living* together. 

"Like I don't know it'll be hard once we get back. I know we'll have to be careful. I know you have a reputation you have to maintain and we probably won't be able to live with you. But you did ask what I imagined. And that's what I imagine." 

"Hey, I think you have a great imagination," he said, his voice trembling. "You really… You really want the three of us to—to live together?"

"Yeah, of course! What did you think was going to happen when we got back home?"

"I thought—of course I thought you'd want us to be permanent. But I thought you and Peggy would get married and that I'd see you... I'd see you when we had the time. I didn't know you wanted to be a… a…"

"A family?" Steve smiled and put his arms around Howard. "Of course I want us to be a family."

"Oh." He tucked his head under Steve's chin and closed his eyes. That would certainly make things easier, wouldn't it? "I want to stop taking the medication."

Steve tensed and Howard clung to him. "What?"

"I want to stop taking the medication." 

"Why?" Steve pulled away; he pushed Howard away. "Why would you want to do that?"

He opened his eyes and Steve looked so confused. "You don't know what it's like. The medication, it's… it's… I hate it!"

"What about the Omega Serum?"

"I can live with the Omega Serum! I can still *think* with the Omega Serum." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Fuck, I'm not… We're not having this discussion now. I don't know why I brought it up. Peggy needs to be here. She—" 

"You're not going to stop taking the medication!" Steve—Cap got to his feet, his face red with anger.

"That's not your choice! It's mine!" Howard stood up too even though he felt shaky and afraid. —Cap was mad, he made Cap mad— He wasn't going to let Cap tower over him.

"If that's the case, then why even talk about it? Why not just stop taking the pills?" Cap was practically shouting and Howard hunched his shoulders.

"Who says I haven't?" he said, softly, and Cap looked horrified.

"You stopped taking the pills?"

Howard lowered his eyes. "I cut the dosage in half."

"You—No! How… How could you? Howard, how—" But whatever Cap was going to say was drowned out by the sound of someone pounding on the front door. 

"Cap, Cap, open the goddamn door! It's pouring out here," said a familiar voice.

"Dum Dum?" Cap rushed out of the room and Howard followed him. When Cap opened the fort door, a very wet, very relieved Dum Dum stood at the entrance.

"Oh, thank God, you're both decent." Dum Dum pushed his way into the cottage. 

"What the heck is going on, Dum Dum?" Cap said.

"We just got reconnaissance on Schmidt. Phillips wants you and Carter back at base ASAP. We think we can get him this time." 

A look of excitement crossed Cap's face. "Let me wake up, Peggy—"

"No need, love," Peggy said rushing down the hall, Cap's shield in her hands. "Unless there's something else you need from your bags, we can go now." 

"Let me just grab my jacket," Howard said.

"No need, Howard." Dum Dum shifted from one foot to another, looking uncomfortable. "Phillips just wants Peggy and Cap. He said you should enjoy the rest of your holiday." 

Howard opened his mouth to argue, but Cap put a hand on his arm. "You can drive back with our stuff."

"But—"

"You'll only distract me," Cap said, almost coldly, and Howard flinched. "Drive back tomorrow."

"Alright," he said softly, suddenly tired.

Peggy gave a huff of annoyance and glared at Cap. She pressed a kiss to Howard's mouth and hugged him. "Remember, drive on the left side of the road."

He smiled and promised to remember. Then he glanced at Cap, who hesitated for a moment before kissing him, too.

Dum Dum flushed, cleared his throat, and looked away.

"We'll talk about this when we get back. Don't… don't make any decisions until we talk. Please," Cap said.

"I won't."

Cap nodded, then gently stroked Howard's cheek, before turning away. 

He didn't watch them go. He didn't do anything but sit in the hallway and stare at his shaking hands.

*****

Howard got lost twice, which was stupid because he was on a fucking island and how hard was it to get to London? Still, he managed to stay on the correct side of the road.

When he got back to base, it was practically empty. Most of the military personnel, the soldiers anyway, were out looking for Schmidt. Good, he hoped they tore the bastard to pieces. After that, they could find Hitler and do the same.

He took their luggage to his room, then laid back on his bed, thinking about the argument he had with Cap, thinking about what Cap hoped would happen when the war was over.

Marriage, school, and *children*, good fucking God, *children*. As if the world would leave them alone and let them have each other that way. He couldn't stop thinking about it: children with Cap's bright blue eyes and Peggy's smile, maybe even a brat or two with his brains. Fuck, he didn't even like kids. He didn't… he didn't even want that life.

—lies lie lies—

God, he wished his brain would shut the hell up because it wasn't going to happen now, was it? Cap wasn't going to let Howard stop taking the medication and Howard would have to spend the rest of his life with his brain running at half-speed. And how could he live like that? It was driving him crazy now. He would drive them away, he would… he would find some way to make them hate him. 

He—His vision blurred and he blinked rapidly. But he couldn't ask Cap and Peggy to hitch themselves to him when he was off his medication. He was weak and yielding and… and it was sickening. He knew that, he did.

Maybe he should… They'd be sad, but they'd get over it. They would still have each other. And it wouldn't be hard. He could probably even make it look like an accident: an experiment gone wrong or a new weapon going off at the wrong time. And they could have their picture perfect life. 

Without him. 

—Cap and his girl, Cap and his wife, Cap and—

He closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists. 

An explosion, maybe. There would be a quick flash of pain, then nothing. 

Absolutely nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve acts like a jackass and everyone tells him so. Also lots of angst. Angst, angst, angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMFG, I'm done! Now I can get back to my regularly scheduled program. My "Perfect World" AU hasn't seen me in months, so I might start there. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope all of you enjoyed this monster. It's certainly been a ride.

The problem was—if it was a problem, was it a problem?—he didn't want to kill himself. There was so much he had left to do, so much he *wanted* to do, and maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to convince Cap to see things his way. Or if he couldn't, maybe Peggy could. Peggy could be very convincing when she put her mind to it. 

Not that it was off the table. Not yet.

Besides, he had other concerns—like finding out how things were going with Cap and the others. No one was telling him anything and he knew that was Phillips' doing. It was goddamn frustrating, but no matter how much he whined, how many times he snuck into the communications area—only to get booted out when he got caught—, or even tried to bribe the staff, no one would tell him a damn thing. 

He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, he was so worried about them. It was the strangest thing, he'd never felt this way before, never cared enough to worry about other people. 

He didn't like it, but he couldn't see any way around it.

God, maybe he should get drunk and stay that way. Or he could triple his bribe and see where that got him. 

*****

Howard learned that even on a military base, secrets didn't stay that way for very long. Information trickled in from the front and eventually made its way to him. It wasn't much, rumors of a big battle, of casualties, of a bright blue light, and stars shining in the sky in the middle of the day.

It would have been fucking ridiculous except that he knew what Schmidt was capable of, he knew first hand.

So waited and he listened.

He didn't hear much else, but it didn't matter because the casualties started to trickle in and Bucky came with them. 

*****

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked, sitting on the hospital bed.

Bucky winced, then glared at Howard, because it was obvious what was wrong: his whole left leg was in cast and his right arm was in traction. 

"Did you fall out of the plane without a parachute?" Howard tilted his head. "Does it itch?" He knew firsthand that they did and that it was impossible to ignore when people brought it up.

"Yes, it does. Thank you very fucking much," Bucky said, his voice hoarse. "And I didn't fall out of a plane. I… I fell off a… a tank."

Howard let out a bark of laughter before he could contain himself.

"Keep it up, Stark, and I won't tell you anything about Steve or Peggy." There must have been some look on his face, because Bucky's gaze softened. "They're fine. Peggy twisted her ankle, that's all." 

"Cap didn't talk her into coming back with you?" he said.

"He tried, but she refused. You know how she can get." Bucky smiled fondly. "She was a real tiger out there. She got into a fistfight with a guy twice her size. Took him down in a matter of minutes. I can see why she has you and Steve twisted around her little finger." 

"Me and—" His protest died away as Bucky gave him a knowing look. "Cap told you."

"Of course he told me, I'm his best friend." Bucky rolled his eyes and then shifted uncomfortably.

"Are you all right? Do you want me to call the nurse?"

"Naw, I'm okay. Anyway, they wanted me to tell you that they were alright and would be back in a few days. They also…" Bucky gave a pained look that seemed to have nothing to do with his injuries. "They send their love." 

"Oh." Howard blushed furiously. "Right." 

"Yeah." Bucky looked away for a moment, then cleared his throat. "You know, Steve's never been in a relationship before, not with anyone, much less two people. Be careful with him, will ya?"

He nodded and rubbed the knee of his pants; the fabric was getting shiny and he obviously needed a new pair. "So what happened? No one will tell me anything."

"Schmidt happened. He was holed up in a little village in the middle of nowhere, trying to build himself a new base. The people there… the villagers…" Bucky swallowed hard. "They must have been given the Omega Serum too because they kept… They used themselves as shields to protect Schmidt. It was the worst thing I'd ever seen. Men and women, even kids… They just…"

"I'm sorry," Howard said softly, and laid his hand on Bucky's good arm.

"How come they couldn’t fight it the way you could?"

Howard shrugged. "Maybe it was a new formula. Or maybe it was because they didn't have Cap. You saw how… You saw."

"Yeah." Bucky tilted his head. "So why do you wanna go back to being like that?"

Of course Cap told him about that too. "That’s none of your business." 

Bucky stared at him for a few moments. "I guess it isn't." 

Howard swallowed hard. "So what happened? You found Schmidt in the village and…"

"And we did our best to get the villagers out of harm's way and take down the HYDRA soldiers. It wasn't easy. Cap went after Schmidt, of course. And…" Bucky frowned. "Steve said Schmidt had a cube and it glowed and… All I know is that a beam of light shot up in the sky and then the light was everywhere. The next thing I know, I'm falling off the tank."

"What about Schmidt?" Did the bastard die? Did Cap kill him? 

"Steve said the cube must have burned Schmidt, the way the HYDRA weapons do, because one moment he was there and the next he was gone. They're bringing the cube in, so you can study it."

"Fantastic," Howard said wryly. Maybe he should invest in some body armor. 

Bucky chuckled, then winced.

"I'll get the nurse for you." When Bucky made a face, Howard grinned. "I'll get you the brunette with the green eyes."

That seemed to perk Bucky right up. "Yeah?"

"I wouldn’t lie to a wounded soldier, Bucky." He patted Bucky's chest and got to his feet. "She'll take good care of you, I'm sure." 

"Maybe she'll give me a sponge bath."

Howard laughed. "You're a sick man, Barnes." 

Bucky gave him an innocent look. "Why else would I be in the infirmary?"

*****

He was in the middle of sketching out some schematics for a new type of bomb when the soldiers came back. They were loud and obnoxious and Howard felt the tension leave his shoulders. The other scientists drifted away to join whatever festivities would pop up around the victorious men, but Howard stayed where he was. He had work to do. 

He didn't look around when he heard slow, halting steps or when he felt a hand run through the hair on the back of his head.

"You need a haircut," Peggy said and sighed.

"Haven't had time." He set down the pencil and look up. What he saw shocked him and he scrambled to his feet. "Your face!" The left side of her face was swollen and marked with a myriad of bruises; but she was smiling. 

"You should see the other guy." She leaned into him and he put his arms around her.

"I hope you broke every fucking bone in his face." He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I did. And then I shot him." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "God, you smell good."

"So do you," he lied.

She opened her eyes snorted. "I need a shower and a few days sleep."

"Why don't you do that then?"

"Why don't you join me?" Peggy grabbed his tie and pulled him down for a gentle kiss. "Steve is going to be another few hours, but he won't mind if we start without him. You can scrub my back, then use that talented mouth of yours to help relieve some of my tension."

"Why Agent Carter, are you propositioning me?"

"Don't make me knock you out and toss you over my shoulder, Howard." She bit his bottom lip, hard.

Fuck, he loved her.

"And risk twisting your other dainty little ankle? I would never forgive myself if I let that happen." He smiled at her scowl and gently touched her face. "Let's go." 

*****

Howard loved using his mouth on her. He loved the way her thighs trembled, how she moaned, low and deep, the way she got sopping wet from the tiniest flick of his tongue.

He loved how loud she was, vocal in a way that made Cap's ears turn red when they were together, and how she came against his mouth, thighs clamped around his head, shaking.

They pressed against each other afterward, trading slow kisses, until she reached over and gripped him tight. She stroked him roughly, pulling gasps from his mouth, his hips moving against her.

He came over her hand, over the bruised knuckles and ragged nails, and said, "I love you."

She smiled at him and licked her hand clean. "I love you, too." 

*****

He slept between them that night, waking them with kisses and soft reassurances when they became restless with nightmares.

He didn't want it to end; he didn't want to lose them. But he would, oh, God, he would.

There was no way around it; it was a lose-lose situation for him. Lose his intelligence or lose them.

It wasn't fair! When was it his turn to have his nightmares kissed away?

God, he was pathetic.

*****

Peggy was sitting across from him at his desk, cleaning her gun, Cap—*Steve* he reminded himself—was on the bed, sketching, and Howard knew that it was time. It was time to have the discussion even though the very idea made Howard's gut churn and his chest ache. But they couldn't avoid it forever. Now that Schmidt was gone the SSR was being disbanded. There was talk of sending Cap and the Commandos to the Pacific theater, Peggy would go back to MI-6, and the government wanted Howard for a few projects.

If they didn't do this now, they never would, and Howard didn't think he could live with that. He didn’t know if he could survive—

"What's wrong, love?" Peggy asked, putting down her gun. Steve looked up from his sketchbook and frowned. 

"I…" The words stuck in his throat and he swallowed hard. "I'm going to stop taking the medication." 

"What—" Steve started angrily, but Peggy made a stop gesture with her hand and he pressed his lips together.

"Go on, Howard," she said, touching his arm.

He loved them, he did, but the pills made him feel like he was already dead. "I'm a genius," he said. "I was born a genius. I was doing things at ten that most engineers only dreamed about. And I loved it, every moment of it. I still love it. Only I can't anymore. I—The pills take that away from me. I'm running at half-speed and I *can't*. I'm not me anymore. I—"

"Are you *you* with the Omega Serum, Howard?" Steve asked finally. "You knelt at my feet and cut your hand, because I told you to! Was that you?"

Howard stared at the table, his shoulders hunched. "I only ever act that way with you. I can… I can act normal around everyone else."

"It won't be easy," Peggy said softly. "You'll be fighting your instincts constantly. Your family and friends will notice."

"War changes people." Howard tried to smile. "I can... I… " He got up and went to the bed. He sat down and laid his hand on Steve's ankle. "Steve, I can't do this. I *can't*. I feel like a stranger in my own skin and there's no way I can fight that. I've tried."

"How is giving in the serum any better, Howard? How?"

"I'm still me. Mostly. I can feel myself underneath it all. I'm right there, I just need to dig a bit."

"Except when you're around me." Steve sounded wrecked. He sounded as if he had been screaming for hours.

"I don't mind. I know you wouldn't take advantage of me. I trust you. I love you." Howard's eyes stung, but he didn’t look away, not even when Peggy sat behind him on the bed and wrapped an arm around his waist. "If you can't… If it's too much, I understand. "

Peggy kissed Howard's neck and whispered Steve's name.

"I don't know," Steve said in an anguished voice. "I just don’t know if I can. I'm sorry, Howard, Peggy. I'm so sorry."

Peggy didn’t say anything. She buried her face against his shoulder and dug her fingers into his side; there would be bruises later.

Howard wanted to curl into a ball and scream He wanted to pound his fists into the wall until his hands were bloody. Instead, he gave a small, sad smile and said, "Hey, no. No, it's alright. It's a lot to ask. I know that."

It was good practice for what he'd have to do later.

*****

Howard stopped taking the pills the very next day.

*****

"He'll come around," Peggy said, stroking Howard's sweat-soaked hair and rocking him. "He will, love."

And he wanted to believe that, he did, but they only had three weeks left, three weeks before they were scattered to the four winds. It would be too late after that. Howard knew it in his bones. 

"What do you need?" She pressed kisses across his jaw.

Cap, he needed Cap, but he didn’t say that because he loved her. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her and he needed her too, just not the way he needed Cap.

"Hold me down," he gasped. "Hold me down and… and tell me you love me. Tell me I'm a good boy."

— _good boy, good boy, I'm a good boy, IamIamIamIam_ —

"You are. Oh, Howard, you are." She pushed him down and held his hands over his head. "You're such a good boy. I love my good boy."

Her voice broke and he ignored it because it hurt too much not to.

"Good boy," she whispered and kissed him, but he knew it wasn’t true.

Cap would be here if it was. If he'd been good enough, Cap wouldn’t have left them.

*****

Bucky flopped down on the bench beside him and leaned over to look at the schematics in his hands. "We should get drunk."

"We should what?" He blinked up at Bucky in confusion. He hadn’t been sleeping very well lately. "It's ten-thirty in the morning." 

"I'm shipping out to the Pacific in two weeks and you're… Where *are* you going?"

"Classified," he said, biting back the answer.

"Right. Which is why we should get drunk." Bucky gave him a worried frown. "You look like you could use it."

Howard self-consciously ran a hand through his hair. "I've been busy getting things ready for the move."

"That's not it and we both know it," Bucky said softly.

"C-Steve told you?" Howard fidgeted and fought back the urge to ask about him.

"No, he didn't have to. I remember what you were like before, and so does Phillips, which is why we should get outta here and get drunk."

"Just the two of us?" Bucky was Cap's friend. Maybe…

Bucky put a hand on his shoulder. "Just us, Howard. Steve is… busy. "

"Yeah." He stared down at the table.

"He's trying to make it easier for you. I know it doesn't seem like it, but he is. Me and the guys, we tried telling him he was being an idiot. I told him that you and Peggy had every right to be mad at him. Especially if he was going to be a stubborn jackass—" 

Howard jerked his head up. "I'm not mad at him! I could never—He doesn't think I'm angry, does he? Please, Bucky, tell him I'm not mad. I'm just… I'm…"

"Confused," Bucky finished for him.

He nodded and bit his lip. "He told me he loved me. He said that I was his guy. He said that we—" Tears stung his eyes and he rubbed them away. "I thought… Why doesn’t he want me?"

"He does. Howard, he does. He just… He's scared. He doesn’t want to be a bully. He doesn't want to be like Schmidt."

"But he's not." Howard's voice broke slightly. "I trust him. I know he'd never hurt me."

Bucky shrugged. "He's never… been serious with anyone. Before all this, he was just a skinny kid no one would look twice at and now *everybody* wants a piece of him. Maybe he's scared you don't really want him. Maybe he's scared you only think you do and he doesn't want to get hurt."

That didn’t make sense at all. He would never hurt Cap. He loved him, he'd do anything for him. 

"Come on, Howard. Let's find ourselves a pub and get sauced." 

Howard laughed softly and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Let me just get my jacket." 

*****

Getting drunk didn't help. It just made him more miserable. He remembered curling up against Bucky, fighting back tears and asking why? 

Why, why, why, why? 

Bucky didn't have a real answer. Not one that could satisfy him anyway. And that was the problem, wasn't it? Without the right answer he was stuck in a holding pattern. He couldn't go back, but he couldn’t move forward either. He wondered if Peggy felt the same way.

Did Cap?

*****

Peggy traced the scars on his chest and Howard squirmed. It always felt uncomfortable when someone touched those scars, but he didn't ask her to stop, though he knew she would if asked. 

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, running a hand up her arm, feeling the tension there.

"I spoke with Steve today."

—Cap—

He closed his eyes and breathed against the sudden anxiety. "You talk to Cap every day."

"Steve," she corrected gently and wrapped an arm around his waist. Howard pressed his face into her hair and breathed. As always, she smelled like roses. "I asked him when he was going to stop being silly."

Howard snorted softly. "You said it just like that, did you?"

"Well, I may have used stronger words. He was a bit scandalized, actually. I don't know why, those degenerates of his are much cruder."

"You're a lady," he said, letting himself imagine Cap's utter horror at whatever Peggy must have said. "What was his response?" He tried not to sound too hopeful. He tried to remind himself that Cap was stubborn.

"There wasn't one. He… He t-turned—" She shuddered and took a deep breath; he didn't look at her. He didn't want to see her fighting to keep the tears at bay. "He turned and walked away." 

Tears burned in his eyes and he choked back the disappointment.

*****

Howard wasn't looking for Cap. He wasn't. He'd just left a file in the war room and he needed to get it. He didn’t expect to see Cap leaning against the gigantic wood table, hands braced against it, looking exhausted.

He wanted to pull Cap into a hug. He wanted to kneel at Cap's feet, rest his head against Cap's stomach, and offer comfort. He took a step forward, chest aching.

Cap turned quickly, hands flexing, and Howard dropped his gaze, His legs shook under Cap's frank assessment. "What do you want, Howard?"

Words tangled in Howard's mouth and he wasn't sure how to unknot them. He shook his head instead of answering. 

"Go away," Cap said, sounding defeated.

"We miss you," Howard responded, finally. "We love you."

"I know. Goddamn it, I know! Now get out!" 

Howard turned and fled.

*****

There were ten days left before they shipped everyone out. Desperation sat in his chest, cold and hard and he could barely breathe around it. He was alone in the lab, packing his things when he found one of Peggy's knives under a pile of papers.

Howard picked it up, looked at it; the light reflected off the sharp edge. It would be so easy. He could take it to his room; it would slice through his flesh. It would hurt, of course it would hurt, but only for a while. When he was dead, everyone could move on. Peggy and Cap could get married, have babies, grow old together. 

It would be the easiest thing he'd ever done.

"Put the knife down, Howard," Cap said from the doorway.

Adrenaline rushed though Howard's veins and he dropped the knife in surprise. 

"Steve," he said, because Cap preferred it, and he felt such uninhibited joy because Cap was right behind him. The he remembered that Cap didn't want him and he practically doubled over from the pain.

"What were you doing?" Cap walked over quickly and took the knife off the table.

—don't say it, don't say it, don't say it, Cap will be upset—

He fought to contain the words but they spilled from his mouth. "I was thinking about killing myself."

"You *what*?" Cap grabbed his arm and shook him roughly.

"It'd be easier for everyone." Cap's grip tightened and Howard hissed because it hurt. "It was only a thought."

"It wouldn't be easier, Howard. Not for anyone." Then Cap pulled him close and he shouldn't, but he leaned into Cap's chest and closed his eyes. He could feel Cap shaking and he felt like he should explain his thinking. He—

—Cap's guy, he wanted to be—

"You don't want me. I was your guy, but you don’t want me anymore. I know, I know it's my fault." His voice was thick with tears. "But it hurts because you said… You said we'd be together. You said we'd have *children*." 

"You don't even like kids." Cap clutched the back of Howard's shirt.

"I could like your kids, yours and Peggy's. I could—" And for a moment, he couldn’t speak, it was all too much. 

"Howard," Cap said thickly.

"I love you." He buried his face against Cap's chest. "And I can't… I can't do this without you. I can't. It's too much. You protect everyone but me. Why? What did I do wrong? What did I do? Please, tell me. *Please*." 

If Cap would only tell him, then Howard could change. He could do the right things and everything would be perfect.

"Nothing. Howard, you didn't do anything," Cap said, his voice trembling. "This isn't your fault. This is mine. My own stupid fears are getting in the way." 

"You're not afraid of anything. You're Captain America."

Cap chuckled weakly. "I’m Steve Rogers and I'm afraid of a lot of things. What if I mess this up?"

"What if you don't?" God, please, he thought, give me this. Please, please, please. 

"I love you, too," Cap said, pressing a kiss to Howard's hair. "Maybe we shouldn't do this here. Let's go talk to Peggy. I think she's packing, too." 

*****

Peggy was kneeling on the floor of her bedroom, her hair in a messy ponytail, nose smudged with dirt, piling knickknacks into a box when they walked in. She looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"So you've decided to stop being a jackass," she said, her voice cold.

Cap tensed and shuffled his feet. "Yes. I… Peggy, I'm so sorry. I know—"

"Shut up." She rose to her feet and looked at Howard. "You've forgiven him?"

Howard stared at the ground, his face flushing hot. He took a deep breath, then forced himself to look into her eyes. "I want to be happy. Don't you? Don't you want us all to be happy?"

Peggy crossed her arms over her chest and glared at them, both of them. 

Howard hunched slightly and Cap put a hand on the small of his back.

"I know you're mad at me, Peggy. You got every right to be, but don’t be mad at him. You know he can't… he can't help himself."

"I can," he said, leaning into Cap, feeling warm and safe. 

Cap pulled him closer and Howard held on tightly. "Peggy, please," Cap said and his voice shook.

Howard turned to look at her and held out a hand. "I need him. I can't do it without him. I can't do it without you either. I—"

—Cap's guy, he was Cap's guy, and Peggy's—

"You can shut up, too," she said, her lips trembling.

He shook his head and fought the urge to obey her. "I want us to be happy. I love you. I love the both of you. Peggy, please."

She pressed her lips together, and for a moment he thought she'd turn away. But then she… relaxed and flung herself at them. She hugged them tightly. "You're both horrible. God, I don't know why I love either of you."

"I'm sorry, Peggy, Howard, I'm so sorry," Cap whispered, until Peggy quieted him with a kiss. 

Howard clung to the both of them. God, God, they only had ten days together. Then who knew what might happen.

No, no, he didn't want to think about that. He refused to think about that. He concentrated on Cap and Peggy. He was theirs now, theirs forever, and no one would take him away from them. They'd make sure of that. 

*****

"Kneel," Cap said, his face red with embarrassment, and Howard did, feeling the tension leave his body.

"And clasp your hands behind your back." Peggy ran her fingers through his hair, and when he obeyed, she praised him. "Good boy, Howard. Isn't he a good boy, Steve?"

"Yeah." Cap stroked the back of Howard's neck. "He's a-a good boy. Our good boy."

Pleasure coursed through his body, leaving him eager for more. "Please," he said, hoping they'd ask him to do something else.

"Relax, love." Peggy tugged on his hair. "We've only just started."

*****

Howard woke the next morning sandwiched between the two of them, his body aching, bruises marking his body. He touched a sore spot on his neck, remembered the way Peggy sucked and bit there, remembered the way that Cap did the same.

Marked him, they'd marked him, and he shivered pleasantly at the thought. 

"Don't look so smug," Peggy said, sleepily, sliding an arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"Your eyes are closed." He brushed a thumb over her cheek and smiled. 

"You're radiating it." She turned her face to kiss his wrist.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Cap groaned, turned on his side, and buried his face against the nape of Howard's neck. "It's too early for this."

Howard wiggled back and smiled. "For what?"

"Everything." Cap gently smacked his hip. "Go back to sleep." 

"So much for our Super Soldier." Peggy smirked and stretched. "Peak of human perfection my foot." 

"I think he's perfect," Howard said, happily.

"Your mental faculties are impaired." She kissed him to take the sting out of her words.

"I think you're perfect, too."

She flushed from the tip of her ears right down to her breasts. "Well… I…"

Cap snickered and nuzzled behind Howard's ear.

"That's enough from you," she said, trying to sound stern, but Howard could hear the slight edge of laughter in her voice.

"Yes, ma'am!" Cap said and leaned over Howard's shoulder to kiss her.

Howard smiled and sighed. They'd talk later, about how they'd manage while they were apart, how Howard would manage while they were apart. But for now, he was just going to enjoy the feeling of his lovers' bodies pressed against him.


End file.
